


Rosy Complexion, But No Roses

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Beads, Barebacking, Daddy Kink, Dildos, Food Sex, Lingerie, M/M, Masturbation, Office Sex, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Riding, Rimming, Spanking, Sugar Daddy, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-04-27 22:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5066953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>21-year old Seungcheol Choi doesn’t know he’s about to be fucked on 800-thread count bedsheets when he gets a request for a private stream. It doesn’t take long for him to realise that sex is so much better when the bed under him doesn’t squeak.</p><p>(Or, Seungcheol is a ratchet uni student and Jisoo is his sugar daddy.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. hotel booty call

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT (171017): oh my god wtf this fic will be two years old in a week and I'm just blown away by the reception. 1000 kudos wtf? I honestly did not expect this to be my most successful fic LOL but here it is and here I am and here you are. that being said, I in no fucking way condone this shit. I did make it so that the idea was easier to swallow, it was safer, and Seungcheol had more agency, and even though I do think sugar babies (as far as I've seen from the Tumblr community) have agency, we can't ignore that some women (and men) suffer abuse, whether physical, emotional, or mental, from sugar daddies. if you ever found yourself romanticising the idea because of how I wrote it, then I apologise. I really should have been more responsible haha but I was a dumb 19 year old when I wrote this and now I'm a dumb 21 year old who wants to delete this fic like all the others I've irresponsibly written but decided to keep it for posterity. please always read this (and my other fics) with a grain of salt. thank you for reading this and for supporting my dumb fic. Ilu ♡

Seungcheol curls his toes, his laptop perched on his thighs and this close to whining—he hasn’t gotten a new one in five years and it shows, the hinges barely making it each time he opens the fucking thing—but it’s a good thing the site’s not lagging. He sets the laptop down on the bed then stands up, making sure his stomach and thighs are visible on camera, then plays with the waistband of his underwear. “Do you want to see me?” he asks as he tugs his underwear down, exposing a tuft of hair, before pulling it back up.

_Don’t be a tease, darling_ , someone admonishes him from the chat box.

_I’m excited to see you_ , another one says, and he’s added a little smiley face next to it, maybe to make his tone seem less menacing. It works somehow—Seungcheol’s smiling with his bottom lip caught between his teeth; user churchoppa gives off that vibe that says he should be tucking Seungcheol in bed instead of fucking him into it.

Seungcheol lowers his underwear down to his ankles then kicks them off. He makes his way to the bed and settles on top of it, placing the laptop by the foot of the bed. “How do you want me today?” he asks.

_On your knees_ , someone suggests.

_Lie down_ , another says.

_I want to see your cute hole_ , user churchoppa tells him, so Seungcheol does just that—he fluffs up a pillow against the wall to place his back on first before lying on the bed with his feet spread wide apart, his entrance bared to the screen. User churchoppa types, _Yes, just like that_. _You’re so cute_. Seungcheol feels pleased with himself, tugs on his cock lightly to the comments of approval filling up the chat box.

He reaches for the lube on his bedside table and slicks up his hands, returning his attention to stroking his cock lightly before asking, “Should I finger myself?” The hand not on his dick is already tracing circles around his entrance.

_I want to finger you myself_ , they all seem to say. Seungcheol lets out a pout at the screen.

“I want your fingers, too,” Seungcheol whines. “It’s not the same if it’s just me.” He lets a finger into himself, sighs a tiny ‘ah’ that seems to echo in the empty room, and tightens his grip on his cock by a fraction. Once he’s gone inside as far as he could without his wrist hurting, just a bit before the knuckle, he begins to fuck himself, pulling out until only the tip of his finger is left inside, then slowly pushing back in. “I want to take it slow today,” he says by way of apology. “I really miss you and it’s been so long.”

_Take your time, baby_.

He inserts another finger, hissing at the stretch he feels as his core tightens up at the intrusion, and lets himself get used to it, face relaxing after a while so he can say, “Tell me about your day.” They eagerly talk about their bad time at work and how their bosses are shit. Some even complain about their wives. (User churchoppa is radio silent, probably too busy playing with himself as he watches Seungcheol on screen.) “You can forget all that with me, right?” he tells them. Not that he really cares, but the long-distance boyfriend experience gets him views, and the shower afterwards feels a little more satisfying for it. _Of course_ , they tell him. _You make me happy_.

There’s precome beading up on the slit of his cock. He rubs his thumb over it and spreads it all over the head, letting out a shaky moanat the contact. They tell him he’s the best, he’s the only one they’ll watch. Seungcheol pulls out his fingers so he can add more lube to both his hands, the sounds of him stroking his cock getting wetter and slicker, hopefully audible even with the volume turned low. He introduces a third finger, groaning at the stretch he’s beginning to feel from the tips of his fingers alone.

_Look how pretty you are_ , user churchoppa tells him. Seungcheol preens.

_I want to fuck you like this_ , everyone says.

Seungcheol sighs, “Me, too.” His cock sits neglected on his hand, with him forgetting to jack off because he’s too focused on fucking himself. He starts stroking himself again and lets out a whine, arching his hips upwards. His toes curl into the bedsheets and he bites his lip as he tries to get to orgasm, feeling it settle as a flooding warmth in his stomach. “I’m—ah—so close…” He tries to go deeper with his fingers, buries them up to the knuckles, before pulling back out and inching in again.

_Yes, baby, I want to see you come_. The chat box feels like it’s holding its breath. Seungcheol gives his balls a squeeze before running his thumb over the slit of his cock again, his thighs quivering.

He comes with his orgasm spilling over his knuckles, and he likes the way it looks on screen. They also seem to think so. He sits up and smiles at the screen and sucks off his fingers slowly, sliding them out of his mouth with a satisfying pop. “That was amazing,” he tells them, his hair falling in front of his face. He pushes it back with the relatively cleaner hand. “I’ll see you soon? I was too busy lately.” None of them want to wait too long for next time. Seungcheol puckers up his lips for an air kiss, blowing it to the screen with a grin then waves. “I love you. Bye!”

A direct message for him pops up just as Seungcheol was about to sign off and take a shower—user churchoppa wants a private stream.

_I’ll pay you, of course_ , he says. Seungcheol lets out a small smile and replies that the amount doesn’t really matter to him; he’ll do it regardless. _Can you fuck a dildo?_ churchoppa asks him.

_I don’t have one_ , Seungcheol answers, face flaming. User churchoppa is willing to buy one for him and have it shipped to his address. Seungcheol blushes even harder, the tips of his ears heating up to the point where everything around it is ice cold. He types, _You don’t have to. I’ll go and buy one._

_I trust you,_ is all user churchoppa says about it, with a smiley tacked on at the end.

 

***

 

The door opens with a click and some rattling, and Jihoon stumbles in just as Seungcheol pours cereal into two bowls. He pours milk into Jihoon’s bowl first then places it on the counter with a spoon while Jihoon takes off his coat and drapes it on the stool beside him, dumping his bags on the floor with an loud thud.

“How was work?” Seungcheol asks after he pours milk into his own bowl and stuffs a spoonful into his mouth.

“Shut up.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes.

“You going to school?” Jihoon asks, mid-chew. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve then runs that hand through his hair. “Fuck, I got a paper to finish before ten.”

“You have, like, three hours,” Seungcheol tells him after taking his last spoonful of cereal. He places his lips on the edge of the bowl and tips it over into his mouth, swallowing the rest of the milk in one gulp. Jihoon’s finished, too; he passes it to Seungcheol for washing up. “It’s not gonna take long, right?”

“Fuck you; I wanted to sleep,” Jihoon grumbles. Seungcheol ushers him to the threadbare couch in the living room and brings him his laptop. Jihoon crosses his arms. He’s petulant now but he’ll definitely start when the deadline sinks in—for now, he’s on YouTube. “I’m not doing it,” he warns Seungcheol.

“You are, and you’re going to get an A, like you always do,” Seungcheol says from his room, where he layers a jacket over his shirt and zips it up. He grabs a set of keys on the counter and stuffs it into his pocket then wriggles his feet into a pair of shoes. “I’ll be back late,” he advises and waits for Jihoon to grunt something in acknowledgement before closing the door behind him.

In class, Seokmin taps him on the shoulder so they could work on an exercise together, so Seungcheol slides the paper towards himself to check Seokmin’s answers. “You differentiated this wrong,” Seungcheol tells him as he points on a number. Seokmin frowns and brings his head closer to Seungcheol to see the item in question.

“What did I do wrong?”

“You forgot the chain rule. You gotta differentiate what’s inside the square root function, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Seokmin says before getting the paper back and erasing his answers.

“Do you know where I can buy a dildo?” Seungcheol asks as Seokmin’s rewriting his answers. Seokmin lets out a loud laugh before Seungcheol kicks him in the shin to make him shut up.

“Why’re you asking?” Seokmin counters, voice lowered to a whisper, and wiggles his eyebrows at Seungcheol.

“You look like the kind of guy who’d know.”

“Really?” Seokmin reaches down his leg to rub at the sore spot. “But, yeah, my boyfriend works at a sex toy shop.” Seungcheol looks up from where he was answering his chosen items on the problem set. “You know the one near the train station?”

“No.”

Seokmin pouts his lips and taps on the desk with his pen. “Uh, there’s a building there near the place where they sell waffle sandwiches. It’s kinda old. So there’s a store that sells glasses. You take the stairs beside it up to the second floor.” He knits his eyebrows together then eventually says, “I guess you can find your way from there. Ask for Hoshi; he’s normally there after lunch.”

“Did you meet him there?”

Seokmin laughs out loud again. “I don’t think he’d date me if we met there,” he says. Their professor passes by to collect the problem sets—Seungcheol’s answered it all while Seokmin talked, and Seokmin looks put out about it but thanks Seungcheol anyway. “I help him test out the new stuff, by the way,” he confides once their teacher was no longer within earshot.

“Jesus,” Seungcheol sighs. He wrinkles his nose.

‘Kinda old’ is an understatement for the decrepit as fuck building Seokmin led Seungcheol to. He buys a waffle sandwich with Nutella and bananas first and wolfs it down by the curb then takes the stairs up to the second floor of the building two at a time, first coming face to face with a store that sells hookahs, then across from it, a mannequin covered in leather safely tucked behind a display. A bell rings when he pushes the door open, making Seungcheol slink down to the nearest aisle possible, and he runs his fingers over the lace of a corset before trying to find the dildos. One of the salespeople finds him, and Seungcheol jumps, dropping the butt plug he was holding in the process.

“Can I help you?” the salesguy asks, his cheeks puffing up when he smiles so he looks like he’s about twelve and his eyes crinkle shut.

“Are you Hoshi?”

Hoshi nods. “Did another customer, like, recommend you here? I wanna know who it is.”

“Uh, my classmate Seokmin told me to come here,” Seungcheol replies and watches Hoshi’s smile soften.

“You can call me Soonyoung, if you want. It’ll be easier,” Soonyoung offers. “Were you looking for something in particular?”

“A dildo… Just not, like, the really big, like, boss-level ones, you know?”

Soonyoung laughs at that and nods and leads Seungcheol toward the area near the cashier. There’s a purple one, sleek and thin and curved with a taper at the end, that Soonyoung plays with in his hands before showing off to Seungcheol. “My boyfriend really likes this one ‘cause it warms up easily,” he says.

Seungcheol shakes his head, unable to shake off the image of a purple dildo stuck up Seokmin’s ass. “Maybe not purple,” he lets Soonyoung down gently.

“What’s it for, anyway?”

“Like, a cam thing,” Seungcheol explains, “so I want it to look real.”

“Oh!” Soonyoung stands on his toes to reach for one on the upper shelf, and as soon as he’s got it, he hands it over to Seungcheol, who takes it and weighs it in his hands. “This one’s pretty great. All the older women like it.”

“Like me?”

“You get what I mean, right? Like, younger people would go for something flashier or more fun-looking—”

“Yeah, and I’m the sad old lady who wants to feel something,” Seungcheol grumbles, making Soonyoung laugh harder.

“You wanted to keep it real. I’m just giving you what you want.”

“Touché,” Seungcheol concedes. He hands the dildo back to Soonyoung. “This one’s perfect.”

“Hang on; I’ll just get you a new one,” Soonyoung says and disappears behind a door. Seungcheol stays by the cashier and places his arms on the counter, watching Soonyoung come out with a box and a paper bag.

“What’s up with Hoshi, by the way?”

“Oh.” Soonyoung grins, raising a hand up to scratch the back of his neck shyly. “It’s the porn star name I’ve always wanted.”

 

***

 

Seungcheol waits for Jihoon to leave for his shift in his room by taking a shower then lying down on his bed and running his hands over the dildo. It’s nude, slightly flushed pink at the head, and has veins he can definitely feel when he wraps his hand around it and gives it a hesitant stroke. He’s smiling to himself, bottom lip between his teeth, and when he runs his thumb over the head of the dildo, he bursts out laughing. A message pops up on his laptop, saying, _Should we start?_ with the same smiley tacked on at the end. Seungcheol turns on the cam and breathes out a small, “Hi,” and a giggle.

_Why are you laughing?_ user churchoppa asks.

“I’m excited,” Seungcheol tells him. He leans back so his torso is seen on the camera and takes his shirt off, throwing it to the floor after, then raises a hand to his nipple to play with it, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. “How was your day?” Good; user churchoppa had pizza for dinner, the expensive fifteen thousand won per pizza kind from one of those places serving Neapolitan-style in classier neighbourhoods. Seungcheol’s getting hungry, too, and his mouth is watering from the thought of nabbing a pizza from the place down the street, even if it’s cheap and is more bread than pizza. He raises his hips and takes off his sweatpants, taking his underwear down with it until he’s sitting on the bed, cross-legged, butt-naked, and cock still soft but warm. The dildo nudges him on the thigh, so he lifts it up and shows it to the camera with a bright smile. “Look what I got!” 

_You’re so cute_ , user churchoppa says. _Put it in your mouth._

After lying down on his stomach, Seungcheol darts out a tongue to lick at the head of the dildo and notes that the taste is like licking a plastic spoon. He opens his mouth wider to take the whole head in and hollows in his cheeks to suck on it, making wet sounds that he’s sure would be audible all the way to the living room of his apartment even with his door closed. “Do you want me to take it all in?” he asks. _Yes_. He relaxes his jaw and slowly inches his way down, beads of saliva running down the sides of the dildo as he did so. It brushes against the back of his throat and he hums before bobbing his head back up, the dildo now shiny with spit that even his camera has managed to catch. Grinning, he presses a kiss to the tip and swirls his tongue around the slit before going back down.

_Touch yourself_ , churchoppa tells him. Seungcheol lifts up his hips and snakes a hand down his stomach to his cock, giving it a light tug before stroking harder, feeling it grow hard in his hand. He lets out a moan around the dildo in his mouth. _Perfect_.

The dildo slides out of Seungcheol’s mouth with a wet pop. While he breathes deeply in through his nose, he lays kisses on the side of the dildo and sucks on the head again. “I wish this was you,” he says with a slight whimper, bottom lip in a pout.

_Me too_.

The lube is on the bedside table. Seungcheol reaches for it and slicks up both of his hands before lying down on his back with his legs spread wide open. He starts with two fingers right away, bunching up the bedcover in his free hand as he groans and fucks himself quickly. When he adds a third finger in, the groan becomes a hiss and the sounds his fingers are making when they slide into him are obscene and loud. “I was horny all day,” Seungcheol pants. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” He hasn’t tried the dildo since he bought it, always falling asleep before he even has a chance to put his hand under the bedcover.

He stops fucking himself long enough to get the lube again and covers the dildo in a generous amount of it before setting himself on his knees. The tip of the dildo teases at his entrance and a shiver crawls up his spine. Seungcheol keeps one hand flat on the bed, the other gripping the base of the dildo, then sinks himself into it, the stretch Seungcheol feeling as the dildo enters him smooth; it doesn’t burn but still manages to let go of all the air in his lungs. His mouth falls open and he sighs.

_You’re perfect, baby_ , Seungcheol could almost hear churchoppa coo from wherever he is, and the thought makes him smile again and move his hips with ease. He raises himself before going back down on the dildo and quickens his pace, making the bed creak and his thighs quiver with effort. _Can you still touch yourself?_ churchoppa asks.

“I’ll try,” Seungcheol replies. He lets go of the hand pressed firmly down on the bed and strokes himself, using a finger to draw the precome from the slit, which makes him whine and stop for a while. The dildo is all the way inside him, and he’s panting, chest heaving, his hands flying to clutch at the bedsheets so he can support himself. “Fuck—”

_You can lie down_ , churchoppa tells him. _Don’t strain yourself, baby_. Seungcheol lets himself stay on his knees for a few more seconds before lying back down on the bed, thighs trembling. He pulls out the dildo until only the tip is left inside him and pushes it back in, the change in angle and pressure making him see stars. _Do you feel better now?_

“Y-Yeah…” Seungcheol strokes himself faster, more precome leaking from the tip. “I won’t last long,” he lets out in a groan.

_Let it out, baby_.

Seungcheol whimpers, stroking his cock faster and toes curling into the bed. He comes on his stomach. The dildo’s still inside him and he doesn’t pull it out until he’s recovered, panting and laughing while lying on his back. Once it’s out, he sets it aside and sits up so user churchoppa can see the streaks of come on his stomach, and from there, he grins at the screen and drags two of his fingers through the come and brings them to his mouth, sucking off his fingers. “Did you like it?”

_I did._ There’s the smiley again—and a thumbs up this time. _I want to see you in person_.

Seungcheol continues to clean himself in the same manner and hums around his fingers. “Really?” he says. “That would depend, though, ‘cause I can’t go to you if you live in, like, Jeju island.” He couldn’t even afford to visit user churchoppa if he lived in Busan. “I live in Seoul, by the way.” Apparently, so does user churchoppa, and he wants to meet in the Lotte Hotel in Seoul, which makes Seungcheol laugh and ask, “You mean, like, the expensive hotel?”

_There’s a cheaper one?_

“Never mind,” Seungcheol says with a laugh. “When?”

 

***

 

“Hey, I’m gonna go drink with Wonwoo,” Jihoon tells him on Saturday night. “You coming?” He’s shrugging on his padded jacket, the fur lining coming up to tickle his jawline. Seungcheol looks up from where he’s studying, head swimming with integral signs, and shakes his head. “Really? You’re turning down drinking?”

“I need to finish all this by tonight,” Seungcheol says.

Jihoon narrows his eyes at Seungcheol. “Really.”

“Yes.”

“You’re getting laid tomorrow, aren’t you?” Seungcheol just laughs at that while Jihoon rolls his eyes. “I’ll drink an extra bottle for you,” Jihoon says as a goodbye, closing the door behind him with a click.

Seungcheol finishes around midnight or so, leaning back against his seat to stretch his arms, his neck making that satisfying crick he looks for after he’s finished a pile of work. He leaves a spare key under the doormat in case Jihoon’s key stumbles out of his pocket later that night. The bed feels amazing when he collapses on top of it, hearing it creak from under him as falls asleep.

He wakes up a few minutes shy of his alarm and looks at the window to see it’s still dark out, the streetlamp directly in front of their apartment bright. When he peeks out of his door, he finds Jihoon asleep on the couch, one leg touching the floor and his jacket draped over his torso, and he wants to set Jihoon right but he needs to leave soon, so he first puts on the sharpest-looking button-down he owns and a clean pair of jeans and sprays cologne liberally on himself until he reeks enough of it to make him start coughing before he goes to nudge Jihoon awake.

“Fuck off,” Jihoon mumbles, head lolling to the side. Seungcheol lifts the leg Jihoon has sprawled over the edge of the couch then covers Jihoon’s entire body with a blanket. In his sleep, Jihoon sighs a little and burrows deeper into the warmth the blanket offers him and Seungcheol leaves him like that and heads for the train station.

The Lotte Hotel is grand shit, but Seungcheol’s sneakers squeak against the marble floor as he walks across the lobby to the reception desk and asks for a Joshua Hong and he hopes they’ll forget the ratchet-looking guy with the worn-down Converses. The receptionist gives him a keycard and calls him Mr Choi and he feels a bit grand himself as he’s being led to the elevators and dropped off at his floor. He stops in front of the room and raises a hand to rap his knuckles on the door before remembering that there is a doorbell, and more importantly, that he has a keycard and all he has to do is open the fucking thing.

“Are you Seungcheol?”

Seungcheol did not expect that voice, sweet and gentle, and when he finally fixes his eyes on the source of it, seated on an armchair with a smartphone in his hand and a cup of coffee in the other, wearing the crispest shirt he’s ever seen, probably ironed within an inch of its life, he falters and licks his lips and tries to moisten the insides of his mouth. “Y-yeah…”

“You’re younger than I thought,” is what comes next out of Joshua Hong’s mouth, and it’s a pretty mouth—full at the bottom and curled at the edges. He takes another sip from the cup then sets it down on the tray containing the remnants of his breakfast. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” Seungcheol answers.

Joshua hums in response, gaze returned to his phone as he scrolls through it, then asks, “Are you hungry?” Seungcheol just chews on his lip, thrusts his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Joshua looks up from his phone and laughs, the sound of it tinkling. “Don’t be so tense; I don’t bite.”

“I thought you would be into that,” Seungcheol quips, but he doesn’t grin until Joshua laughs again and the tension leaves his body. “I am. Hungry, I mean. Kinda.”

“I have to attend a conference in a while,” Joshua says. “You can order from room service, whatever you want.”

“Really?”

Joshua gets up from his seat, mouth quirking to the side. “Even Yamazaki 25 if you want it,” he tells Seungcheol, who doesn’t know what Yamazaki 25 is but makes a mental note to look up on his phone later. Joshua puts on a blazer and brings the knot of his tie closer to his throat, passing by Seungcheol on his way out. “I’ll be back later, so make sure you’re ready for me,” he says, right in Seungcheol’s ear, his hand on Seungcheol’s shoulder.

Seungcheol swallows. “Got it.” Seungcheol feels Joshua smile against the shell of his ear, whisper, “Good boy,” and squeeze his shoulder before letting go. The door closes behind Joshua and Seungcheol finds himself alone. He looks for the room service menu and the hotel room telephone and chokes on the prices as he flips through the menu while the line rings.

“Hi”—Seungcheol panics then quickly latches onto the most unfamiliar thing on the menu—“uh… can I… get the… eggs Benedict? And, uh, some hot chocolate—” It’s fifteen thousand won hot chocolate, but it’ll be worth it, he hopes. The staff on the other end confirms his order and hangs up, leaving Seungcheol to get up and take a shower, lathering on soap until he chokes on the scent of lavender and his skin feels squeaky clean. He takes his time shampooing his hair, too, and finally uses some conditioner, rubbing circles all over his scalp with his fingers.

The fluffy white bedsheets feel better after that. Seungcheol hugs one of the pillows as he scrolls through his phone, snuggling deeper beneath the duvet as he did. His food arrives just before he drifts off to sleep, so he puts on a bathrobe and lets the staff bring the food inside. They push a wheeled tray into the room, Seungcheol’s food covered with a silver cloche, polished to a high sheen, and next to it, a fancy-ass teapot that brings in the scent of chocolate as soon as it’s placed in front of Seungcheol, who’s now seated on the couch facing the bed.

“Holy fuck,” he says, as soon as the staff leave the room. He lifts up the cloche and sets it aside, then takes a photo of his food so he can send it to Jihoon with: _This breakfast costs more than you_.

_What the fuck_ , is what Jihoon replies. _Who even are you fucking?_

_Secret._

_Take advantage of it_ , Jihoon tells him, and Seungcheol feels a little guilty, like taking advantage of Joshua Hong’s money makes his whore status official, so he tells Jihoon just that, to which Jihoon replies, _But you are one_. Pouting at the screen, Seungcheol lets it fade to black while he slices through the eggs Benedict and tries to put a little bit of everything on his fork. It’s a big mouthful but he makes it, the taste too rich and the texture uniform throughout, but it warms him down to his toes—more so after he pours himself some hot chocolate into a cup and takes a sip. He makes sure he finishes it, though, even the stupid side salad because he found out it cut through the heaviness he was feeling in his mouth.

By the time he’s done with everything, even the large pot of hot chocolate, he sinks back into the couch, the fabric of the bathrobe rough against his back. He forces himself to get up, leaves the robe in the bathroom then lies down on the bed, pulling the duvet up to his chin before falling asleep.

He wakes up on his stomach with his cheek pressed flat against the pillow, and Joshua’s pulled down the duvet until his ass so his entire back is exposed to cold air, but Joshua has a hand running all over his back.

“Did you sleep well?” Joshua asks, and all Seungcheol can offer him is a sleepy smile. Joshua’s hand rests on Seungcheol’s ass cheek. “That good?”

“Yes,” Seungcheol purrs. “How was your conference, Daddy?” He doesn’t register what he’s said until he sees Joshua’s jaw tighten and the hand on his ass is squeezing it, and when he does, he lets out, “Shit.”

“It’s okay,” Joshua says, hand reaching up to loosen his necktie. “Were you thinking of your own dad?”

Seungcheol hesitates but has to rationalise that it’s all to do with the suit and how sharp Joshua’s shoulders look in them and that the resemblance ends there. “No,” he says finally, and the tension in Joshua’s face melts away so he’s smiling again.

“Good.” Joshua leans in and lowers his gaze; Seungcheol moves his head back a little but Joshua lets go of his hold on Seungcheol’s butt so he can cradle the back of Seungcheol’s head. “Daddy had a bad day today,” he says, and Seungcheol has to swallow the lump that’s caught in his throat. “Will you make Daddy feel better, baby?”

“Of—of course.”

Joshua is stroking Seungcheol’s hair now, thumb rubbing circles on Seungcheol’s head, and Seungcheol leans into it, lets his lips part slightly. “You’re such a good boy,” Joshua coos, and brings his head down to kiss Seungcheol—it’s a light press of his lips on Seungcheol’s but Seungcheol lifts his head up so he can deepen the kiss, tentatively nibbling on Joshua’s bottom lip until he sighs above him. They kiss until Seungcheol is squirming, back arching, boner pressing uncomfortably against the bed, and Joshua’s nails scratch at Seungcheol’s scalp. “Did you prep?”

“I… I wanted Daddy to do it for me,” Seungcheol gasps. He falls back down on the bed, and Joshua lets go of him, kicking off his shoes and taking off his socks before he clambers on top of the bed and cages Seungcheol with his limbs.

“You’re so lazy,” Joshua murmurs in Seungcheol’s ear. He nibbles on the shell of it before ducking his head down to kiss Seungcheol on the back of his neck then down to between his shoulder blades. “Do you want Daddy to eat you out?” The kisses he lays down Seungcheol’s spine makes him shiver.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol whines, “ _yes_.”

“Yes what?” Joshua’s mouth stops just before the crack of Seungcheol’s ass, and he has both of his hands on either cheek, spreading them open and massaging them.

“Yes, Daddy,” Seungcheol says, and that’s when Joshua places his tongue on Seungcheol’s entrance, licking it first in broad strokes. Seungcheol lifts up his hips to bring his ass closer to Joshua’s mouth and cranes his neck to see the view, sees Joshua’s hair falling in front of his eyes and the way his shoulders shift beneath his clothes. Sighing, he lies his head back down on the pillow and lets Joshua fuck him with his tongue. He groans when Joshua puts a finger inside him in addition to his tongue, the sounds slick and wet between Seungcheol’s soft gasps. “Ah… Daddy…”

Joshua stops, places lazy, open-mouthed kisses on the curve of Seungcheol’s ass. “Yes, baby, what is it?”

“Your clothes…”

Laughing, Joshua gets off the bed and stands up by the edge of it, with Seungcheol following to sit on his knees in front of him. Joshua shrugs off his blazer first then sets it aside, lets Seungcheol reach up to loosen his necktie even more, and it slides out from beneath his collar in a whisper. Seungcheol fumbles with Joshua’s shirt, so Joshua takes over for him, lifting it up from where it was tucked into his trousers, and leaves the shirt on the floor. Joshua kisses Seungcheol again, stepping back so that Seungcheol can step off the bed, too, and cradles the back of Seungcheol’s neck while Seungcheol reaches for Joshua’s belt.

The leather is soft and pliant, wrapping around his knuckles with ease. Joshua notices the way Seungcheol’s tongue darts out of his mouth when he looks at it, and asks him, “You like that?”

“I—Yeah,” Seungcheol says, face heating up.

“Let’s save it for another time,” Joshua tells him as he takes the belt from Seungcheol’s hand and lets it fall to the floor with a clink. He then brings Seungcheol’s hands to the waist of his trousers, guiding them through the zipper as if Seungcheol’s hands were shaking, then kicks off his trousers so he’s standing naked in front of Seungcheol, half-hard and lean.

Seungcheol kisses a line down Joshua’s chest, down the trail of hair that leads to his cock, and raises Joshua’s dick so the head of it rests heavy on his lips, and he smiles before he closes his mouth around the head, lapping his tongue into the slit. Joshua rests a hand on the back of his head, encouraging him to take Joshua deeper in, until his nose is buried in Joshua’s pubic hair, the smell of musk overpowering. Seungcheol’s mouth makes wet sounds when he bobs his head up and down, and a wet pop when Joshua pulls hard enough on Seungcheol’s hair that Seungcheol lets go of Joshua’s cock from his mouth.

Joshua pulls Seungcheol back up then kisses him, Seungcheol’s boner rubbing against Joshua’s thigh, and Joshua trails his hand down Seungcheol’s back to his ass again, giving it a squeeze before tracing a finger around Seungcheol’s entrance. “The lube, baby,” Joshua says, “can you get it for me?” He points at the bag placed on one of the chairs, so Seungcheol lets go to get it, noticing that it’s already night out when he faces the large glass window.

“I have an idea,” Seungcheol tells Joshua with a grin when he hands over the lube to Joshua, who’s now seated on the couch and lightly stroking himself. “Wanna do me against the window?”

“You want people to see you?” Joshua asks, then laughs. “Of course you do.” He stands up and pats Seungcheol on the butt cheek, who places his palms flat against the window and wiggles his hips in front of Joshua.

Seungcheol looks down and feels his stomach drop, but he likes seeing Myeongdong so busy, the people so tiny he wouldn’t even know if they looked up, wouldn’t see what their faces would look like when they see what’s happening on the twenty-fifth floor. He presses his forehead on the window, too, and likes how cold it is feels against his skin while Joshua’s hands are warm on his ass and slick with lube. Joshua pushes a finger inside of him. Seungcheol’s mouth falls open and he’s panting, his breath making the glass fog up until the lights dotting the city are a blur. His back is pressed against Joshua’s chest now and Joshua’s free hand is laid on top of Seungcheol’s so that their fingers are almost intertwining.

“Is that what you like?” Joshua asks, mouth on Seungcheol’s neck. He’s laying butterfly kisses along the length of it and rests his chin on Seungcheol’s shoulder. Seungcheol whines when Joshua inserts a second finger and crooks them, making him grind his ass down on Joshua’s fingers. “You love it when people can see you, baby?”

Myeongdong at night was just the better alternative to a hotel ceiling, but Seungcheol gasps and curls his fingers on the glass. “Yes, Daddy,” he says, his voice low. Joshua snakes his free hand down to stroke Seungcheol’s cock, rubbing the bead of precome that’s gathered at the slit all over his head, and Seungcheol feels his knees go weak and he lets out a moan. “I want you.”

“Say it nicely, baby,” Joshua teases, and Seungcheol would laugh if he weren’t so turned on.

“I want you, please.”

Joshua laughs, and it sounds nice, feels nice against Seungcheol’s back. “What do you want from me exactly?”

“I want your dick inside me, please.”

“Please what?”

“Please, Daddy, I want your dick inside me,” Seungcheol says, biting his lip, and Joshua goes quiet, just fucks Seungcheol with his fingers and strokes his cock until Seungcheol is left whimpering against the window. He feels Joshua’s lips close around a patch of skin on his neck and sighs when Joshua sucks on it, grazes his teeth on the sensitive skin. “Daddy…” Joshua quickens his pace on Seungcheol’s cock, until Seungcheol bangs on the window with the palm of his hand and his toes are curling, then introduces a third finger. “ _Daddy_. I need you.” The view straight down is making him dizzy, so he tries to look for the Namsan Tower. He arches his back and tries to chase Joshua’s fingers with his ass.

Joshua shushes him then raises his head so his mouth is near Seungcheol’s ear. “Daddy’s only giving you what you want, baby.”

“But I want your dick,” Seungcheol whines. His face is burning and the glass is heavy enough to resonate a dull thud when Seungcheol slaps it again. “Please fuck me, Daddy.”

Joshua stops then gently pulls out of Seungcheol, leaving him to squirm in his place. There’s a crinkle of plastic and when Seungcheol turns his head back, he sees Joshua roll a condom on his cock then slicks it up with lube, the sound wet and familiar and satisfying. Seungcheol strokes himself until Joshua comes back and plants his hands firmly on Seungcheol’s hips. He aligns his cock first with Seungcheol’s entrance then inches in, the stretch making Seungcheol grimace.

“Are you okay, baby?” Joshua asks as he brushes Seungcheol’s hair back and away from his eyes. “Does it hurt?”

“No… You can go as hard as you want, Daddy.”

“You’re such a good boy,” Joshua coos and cranes his neck to kiss Seungcheol on the cheek, though it quickly turns into a pant, his mouth slack and breathing hot, damp air on Seungcheol’s face as he fucks him harder. Seungcheol’s fucking his fist as well, knees turning to jelly as he chases his orgasm. “Are you close, baby?”

“So… close…” Seungcheol lets out with a grit of his teeth. He rubs his thumb over the head of his cock and his head falls back.

“Can you hold it for me?”

Seungcheol’s stomach is a pool of warmth. He shakes his head but slows down the pace of his hand on his cock. “I’ll try, Daddy.”

“Good boy,” Joshua says, making Seungcheol preen. He presses more kisses to Seungcheol’s neck. “Just wait for Daddy to come, okay? Daddy will take care of you.”

“I—I trust you,” Seungcheol blurts out. He feels it’s true; every time Joshua Hong uses the word ‘daddy’, it sends his cock twitching instead of his hairs raising.

Joshua Hong comes not long after with a soft cry and he curls his arms around Seungcheol’s stomach, almost cradling him, and nuzzles his nose into the dip in Seungcheol’s back between his collarbones. “You’re so good, baby” he murmurs. He wraps his hand around Seungcheol’s and helps stroke Seungcheol to orgasm, rides Seungcheol through his whimpers as his come dribbles down their knuckles. When Seungcheol’s stopped shaking beneath him, Joshua raises his knuckles to his mouth and licks the come away before easing off of Seungcheol and throwing the condom in the trash bin.

The glass is cool against Seungcheol’s back when he turns around to lean on it, his thighs quivering like mad. A stupid smile spreads across his lips and he has to bite on his bottom lip. Joshua faces him, his eyebrows knitting together when he sees Seungcheol’s expression.

“What’s so funny?” Joshua asks.

“I don’t know,” Seungcheol admits with a laugh. “This? I thought you were gonna be some gross old man, but you’re, like, really hot.”

Joshua smiles and closes the space between them, brushing Seungcheol’s hair back again before kissing him. “Thanks; I tried.” He takes Seungcheol’s hand and licks the come off it then leads him back to the bed, where Joshua leaves him for the bathroom.

“You’re going?” Seungcheol says as he wraps himself up in the duvet. He watches Joshua clean himself up, brush his teeth, fix his hair.

“Of course I am,” Joshua says from the bathroom. “I only booked this room for you.” He leaves the bathroom and starts putting on his clothes again, clicking his tongue at how wrinkled the shirt’s become from being dumped unceremoniously unto the floor. “Why? Do you want me to stay?”

“It’s not that,” Seungcheol says, then bites his lip and chews on it. “It’s just… I should be the one doing the walk of shame, you know?”

“You will tomorrow,” Joshua jokes. He buttons up his shirt with a slight look of disdain. “The room’s already paid for, so you can do what you want with it. You can order more food, if you want.”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “This is too much,” he says.

“Not at all.” Joshua knots his necktie swiftly and brings it up to his neck before putting on his blazer. “I think you should sleep on a proper bed tonight.”

“I—”

Joshua stops him by leaning down for another kiss. “Be a good kid,” he says before putting on his shoes. The door to the room closes behind him with a click, and when Seungcheol reaches for his phone on the bedside table, his fingers brush against a fat wad of cash and a strip of paper containing Joshua Hong’s mobile number.

 


	2. I kinda like it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jihoon is Seungcheol's straightforward asshole dongsaeng. Joshua Hong is apparently a cuddle monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 14,000 words, and I have a paper to write as well as an exam tomorrow but it turns out I won't be able to study until I finish this chapter because it's been bugging me, so fuck it, I finished it a week ahead of time.
> 
> Thank you so much for the love and the response!! More people liked this than I thought and that really helped me get the second chapter out. I hope you guys enjoy this one! <3

Jihoon’s quick to count the bills, each fifty thousand won bill slapping hard against the counter. There are about twenty of them, and Jihoon counts thrice to make sure, muttering the numbers under his breath while Seungcheol watches from the other side of the counter, chin resting on his arms.

“One million fucking won,” Jihoon says, finally. “I don’t fucking believe this.”

Seungcheol’s counted the money already the morning after at the hotel, over a large breakfast of waffles and omelettes and coffee. He’s choked on his coffee, to be sure, and as he puts on his shoes, he realises that the wad of bills inside his bag is worth more than his entire outfit, so he hugged the backpack all the way to the train station then on the walk back to his apartment. Jihoon opened the door for him with a scowl and a hand over his eyes that was quick to snatch the money when Seungcheol gets it out of his bag and waves it in front of Jihoon's face.

“Hey,” Jihoon says as he snaps his fingers in front of Seungcheol’s face. Seungcheol watches Jihoon split the money into two even stacks then push one towards him. “That’s yours.”

“No way,” Seungcheol complains, “my ass is worth one million won, so I want it all. You don’t even get laid.”

Jihoon snorts. “You really think I don’t?” He picks up his stack and fans it out in his hand. “This is going to rent, okay?” he explains. “I’ve been paying your half for two months now, and you owe me.”

Seungcheol concedes and huffs out a “Fine”, which turns into another protest when he sees Jihoon pocket one of the fifty thousand won bills for himself. “What the fuck, Jihoonie.”

“You owe me, hyung,” Jihoon says in a clipped tone that was all bark and no bite. “I’m the one who has to put up with your camboy shit.”

“I make sure you’re not at home, though,” Seungcheol grumbles. “So, what, I have to pay you for scarring you for life or something?”

“Duh. Why don’t you just get a real job?”

Seungcheol huffs again, crosses his arms, and rolls his eyes. He pockets his money, making a mental note to put it in his sad bank account so it at least looks fluffed up a bit. “I did, right?” he says. “This is a real job.”

“Yes, hyung,” Jihoon says, “you’re a whore now. You think he’ll pay you more next time? We could get a new couch or better WiFi.”

“I’m not assuming anything,” Seungcheol replies. “I think this includes the private stream, ‘cause it’s such a huge amount…”

Jihoon’s chewing on his bottom lip. “On second thought,” he says slowly, “maybe it’s better you don’t see him again.”

“Why the hell not?” Seungcheol is not about to admit to Jihoon that he texted Joshua Hong ‘thank you and good morning’ earlier when he woke up… or that Joshua Hong texted the same thing back but with a smiley, and that made Seungcheol smile into his pillow for a good five minutes. “He seems pretty nice.”

“He sounds like bad news,” Jihoon corrects him. “Come on, hyung, you know people with money think they can get away with doing whatever they want and, like, fuck around with people just ‘cause they have money and you don’t.”

Seungcheol pouts. He also doesn’t want to admit that he’s flattered as fuck that someone thinks he’s worth a million won—even if a million won seemed like a throwaway amount for someone like Joshua Hong. “I think”—he traces circles on the countertop with his finger—“he’s not as bad as you think.”

“How do you know that?” Jihoon asks. When Seungcheol looks up at Jihoon, he sees Jihoon’s eyes are narrowed.

Seungcheol shrugs.”He rimmed me without me asking,” he says, which makes Jihoon gag.

“Fuck, you’re nasty.”

“The one and only.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you when he starts asking to do torture porn with you.”

“He’s not into torture porn,” Seungcheol says. 

“Wanna bet on it?” Jihoon gets out of his seat and goes into his room. He’s grinning when he comes back out with his laptop, andSeungcheol follows him from their kitchenette to the couch, tucking his legs under him as he curls up beside Jihoon. “What’s his name?”

“Joshua Hong.”

Jihoon types up the name on the search engine then presses enter, and they wait for the results to load. “Is he a halfer or something?”

“I don’t know.”

“You can’t keep basing niceness on who voluntarily rims you,” Jihoon tells him. The hand that wasn’t busy with the mousepad is on Seungcheol’s thigh, patting it. He clicks the first link, mouth falling open as he skims the page (and Seungcheol would follow suit but Jihoon’s reading pace was always faster than his and by the time Seungcheol would reach the middle of the page, Jihoon would be scrolling down already). “Holy fucking shit.”

“What is it?” Seungcheol asks. Jihoon scrolls back to the top and waits for Seungcheol to read it, though he lets out a whine that he’s gonna be seventy by the time Seungcheol reaches the bottom of the page, so Seungcheol ends up skimming, eyes catching words like ‘Wharton’ and ‘forex trading’ that make his stomach twist into a knot. “Holy fucking shit is right,” Seungcheol breathes. “Holy fuck.”

“Hong and Yoon… I’ve heard of this…” Jihoon says. “Mingyu was talking about how he wanted to work there after graduation.” His mouth curls up into a grin when he adds, “Looks like you can help Mingyu out now that you’re fucking the CEO,” and Seungcheol hits him for that.

There’s a photo on the website near the bottom. “He looks young,” Jihoon remarks.

“He looks hot,” Seungcheol corrects him. He hasn’t gotten over how Joshua’s lips curve so prettily when he smiles.

“You know what I mean,” Jihoon says, rolling his eyes. “He looks young for an old geezer.”

“He’s not that old,” Seungcheol grouses. “He’s only thirty-four.”

“‘Only thirty-four’,” Jihoon mocks. “Seriously, hyung, how does it feel now that you’re fucking an old guy?”

“We can’t all be fucking eighteen-year old girls like you are.” It’s Jihoon’s turn to hit Seungcheol—he raps his knuckle on Seungcheol’s head then tries to shove him off of his shoulder but Seungcheol stretches out his arms and clings to Jihoon even harder.

“You’re gross,” Jihoon scoffs.

Seungcheol grins at him. “I know. Hey, the sex was pretty good, so I wouldn’t mind doing it for the rent.” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “You’re a fucking saint, hyung.”

“Rent comes before getting rimmed,” Seungcheol declares. Jihoon groans.

“Did he even say you’d do this again? Like, did you make arrangements?”

“He promised a next time.” Though to be fair, it was in the context of Joshua Hong using his belt on him, but the promise is there; Seungcheol’s getting a boner just thinking about it.

“I want a cut,” Jihoon says. “I hate worrying about you like this.”

“You care,” Seungcheol coos, reaching a hand up to pinch Jihoon’s cheek that Jihoon slaps away. “But no.”

“Twenty percent.”

“You’re evil,” Seungcheol grumbles, and Jihoon grins like he knows it.

 

***

 

Joshua Hong sends him a [text](https://41.media.tumblr.com/e7bbcec396dafd865e4f345b4caea647/tumblr_mgu9nhTCYO1rcf7tlo1_1280.jpg). Seungcheol’s in a shop that sells proper clothes, the kind of store with their own special paper bags, and it’s been a while since he’s been in one, but now he’s looking for a decent shirt, something to wear that wasn’t a cheap button-down or a ratty t-shirt. He was playing with the fabric of a crewneck sweatshirt between his fingers when he opens his phone to view the message, letting out a squeak and nearly dropping his phone in surprise, face burning.

_Are you free later?_ Joshua asks with the photo. He sends another one saying, _Daddy misses you_. And Seungcheol—Seungcheol grabs the first thing that catches his eye and runs to the dressing room so he can read the message over again in private. (The shirt he grabbed is nice, too—a denim button-down that’s soft on his skin but thick with a pocket on his left chest that he thought made him look smart when he did end up trying it on.)

Seungcheol texts back, _Yeah_ , with the wide-eyed emoji. Joshua gives him an address and sends another [photo](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/d6/28/89/d628890c352fe1c1b1148a5f391582e3.jpg) with the message _Be a good boy for Daddy_ , which makes Seungcheol rush to the sex toy store after he’d paid for the chambray top.

Soonyoung doesn’t expect Seungcheol to ever return to the store, but he comes in, face flushing, and asks for stockings and lingerie. Seungcheol puts them on, has to wriggle his legs to get the stockings through, and doesn’t realise putting on lingerie meant a little bit of shifting his dick around on his part, but he’s finally got them on so he puts on his jeans and the top he bought at the shop then pays Soonyoung, who winks at him.

“Kinky night?” Soonyoung asks.

“I’m kinda scared,” Seungcheol admits, making Soonyoung laugh.

“Don’t be. Safewords exist for a reason.”

Seungcheol swallows; he’s forgotten about those. He gets his change then walks out, his dick at the forefront of his mind until he gets to the address Joshua texted him, which turns out to be an office building, high ceilings and large glass windows and intimidating receptionists and all. The receptionists just gloss over him, barely batting an eye when he says he’s going to Hong & Yoon and Seungcheol wonders if all the receptionists leading up to the firm know about Joshua Hong’s booty call from Yonsei University. They give him an ID to clip on to his clothes, making him glad he chose a top with a pocket in front, then takes the elevator up to the floor of Joshua’s firm.

It’s sometime around eight in the evening; the whole place seems to have slowed down to a trickle and men in sharply tailored suits are chatting with each other as they loosen their neckties and hold on to their satchels, walking together to the elevator. Seungcheol overhears them talking about having a few bottles of soju over some barbecue before going home. A woman in a power suit walks past him on her heels, calling for her car to take her to a dinner with a client. It doesn’t take long to find Joshua; his office the largest one in the corner of the room, and Seungcheol knocks on the door tentatively, waiting for the go signal before he enters the room.

Joshua Hong has glasses on, and Seungcheol is fucked, his mouth watering as he fumbles to close the door behind him.

“Hey, baby,” Joshua greets as he looks up from his laptop to face Seungcheol with a smile. “Daddy’s waiting for the New York market to close. How was your day?”

Seungcheol’s mouth is always so _dry_. He licks his lips then says, “I… went shopping after school,” and Joshua quirks his mouth at that.

“Did you buy that today?”

“Y—Yeah.”

“It suits you,” Joshua says, and Seungcheol tries his best to not look so happy about it, so he just says:

“Thanks, Daddy.”

“Of course, baby. Why don’t you come closer?” Seungcheol does just that, walking around the table till he reaches Joshua. Joshua places a hand on the back of Seungcheol’s neck to bring him down for a kiss before pulling away. “Did you miss Daddy?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want Daddy to feel good?”

“Yes.”

Joshua almost laughs when he says, “Go under the table,” so Seungcheol laughs for him, dropping to his knees and scooting so that only his head is jutting out from under the table and he’s settled between Joshua’s legs. Seungcheol places his chin on Joshua’s thigh and pouts until Joshua’s opened his belt and pulled his cock out from his trousers, already hard like Joshua’s been meditating on this for a while now.

“Hi,” Seungcheol says with a grin, more to the tip of Joshua’s dick than anything, then leans his head forward, placing both hands on either of Joshua’s thighs so he can take the head of Joshua’s cock in his mouth, tongue already swirling circles on the slit. It takes Joshua by surprise; he hisses amidst the tapping of his keyboard, a harsh suck in of breath that goes straight to Seungcheol’s dick, so Seungcheol lets his teeth graze on the head slightly then hollows in his cheeks to take Joshua in deeper. A string of saliva follows Seungcheol’s lips when he pulls out to breathe properly, so he licks it off before returning to sucking on the head and stroking Joshua.

“Hello?” comes Joshua’s voice from above. “Ah, Moon-ssi, how are you?” More tapping on the keyboard—Seungcheol stops for another while, but one of Joshua’s hands reaches down to first pat Seungcheol’s hair then to tug on it slightly, pressing down so Seungcheol would take Joshua’s cock in his mouth again, which Seungcheol does until his nose is buried in the tuft of hair that peeks through Joshua’s trousers. “I wouldn’t recommend selling any yen today; it didn’t do well in the Tokyo market. You could lose up to three billion won.”

Okay, the finance talk is hot, with values so large Seungcheol couldn’t fathom. Opening his mouth wider, he lets the head of Joshua’s cock graze the back of his throat again and swallows any spit that threatens to pool out of his mouth. There’s another tug on his hair, sharper.

“You don’t have any Australian dollars in your portfolio yet. Prices are low today, but we’re expecting them to rise by Monday,” Joshua adds. Seungcheol hopes he puts the phone’s receiver well away from his mouth because sucking on the tip of Joshua’s cock makes Joshua let out a tiny moan, muffled by him biting on his lip. “I’ll always encourage you to keep your portfolio diverse, Moon-ssi. The situation in Europe is also damaging the euro, so I think we should wait.”

There’s a pause and Joshua laughs.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Moon-ssi. The yuan is expected to drop when the Sydney market opens again in the morning. We can invest in it then. Is that everything?” Another pause. Seungcheol’s been gliding his tongue on the underside of Joshua’s cock, laying kisses along the length of it as well. “Feel free to call again in the morning, Moon-ssi,” Joshua says finally, putting his phone on the table. Seungcheol lets himself suck on Joshua’s dick more noisily then, releasing his dick with a wet pop when Joshua calls for him, his voice dripping with honey: “Seungcheol.”

Joshua doesn’t let him say anything. He places the other hand on Seungcheol’s head, too, then uses both hands to pull Seungcheol’s head back by the hair so Seungcheol could see him properly. “You’re a bad boy,” he says. It makes Seungcheol gulp. “You knew Daddy was talking to a client.”

“I’m—I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Sorry’s not enough.” Joshua smiles then and Seungcheol already has an inkling from the text Joshua sent him earlier, but the whole thing still sends shivers down his spine. “You need to be punished,” Joshua says quietly, one of his hands moving down to cup Seungcheol’s cheek, thumb brushing on Seungcheol’s bottom lip, and Seungcheol swears Joshua can feel his mouth tremble. “Luckily for you, the New York market hasn’t closed yet, so Daddy will deal with you later.” Joshua releases both of his hands and lets Seungcheeol return to blowing him, now making small groans as he clicks his way to billions of won on his laptop.

The New York fucking market can’t close soon enough, but Seungcheol soon hears Joshua lowering the monitor of his laptop and an order for him to stop and to get out from under the table.

“Are you wearing what I asked you to?”

Seungcheol’s not quite used to his legs standing up, his knees turned to jelly after kneeling for so long. He blushes at the question. “Yes.”

“Show me.”

Seungcheol obeys, hands reaching up to unbutton his shirt first. He lets it fall to the floor then kicks it to the side, stepping out of his shoes and peeling off his socks after. Joshua hasn’t taken his eyes off him yet, elbow propped up on the armrest of his chair, chin resting on his knuckles, so Seungcheol lets his hips wriggle out of his jeans even if they’re not tight then makes his way to Joshua so he’s standing in front of him, dick hard in the black lace panty and a little damp from where it’s leaking precome.

Joshua smiles. “You look good.” (When will Seungcheol stop preening from every compliment that comes from Joshua Hong?) He tucks his cock, now softened a little, back into his trousers and closes the gap between his legs. “Sit on my lap.” Seungcheol puts a knee on the side of Joshua’s thigh first; Joshua reaches out to run his hand over Seungcheol’s stockinged thigh. “Face the other way,” he instructs, and, face burning, Seungcheol sits down on Joshua’s lap with his back facing Joshua, legs on either side of Joshua’s. A hand pushes Seungcheol down so his mouth is kissing the table and he reaches out two hands to steady himself.

There’s a tug on the hem of his panty and it’s dragged down so Seungcheol’s ass is exposed to cool air. Joshua has one of his hands now on Seungcheol’s hips, the other trailing a finger to the curve of Seungcheol’s ass before laying itself flat on it. Seungcheol’s fingers curl against the table. Joshua leans in so his chest, necktie and button-down and blazer and all, is pressed against Seungcheol’s back and his mouth is on Seungheol’s ear.

“What kind of punishment do you think you deserve?” Joshua asks in a low voice.

Seungcheol shivers. “A light one,” he answers slowly.

“Is my baby afraid?”

“A… a little.” Seungcheol hopes Joshua wouldn’t take that against him. He gasps when Joshua runs his left hand up Seungcheol’s stomach to play with a nipple between his fingers.

Joshua kisses him on his temple before leaning back into his seat. He raises the hand that was on Seungcheol’s ass then spanks Seungcheol on it lightly, barely making a sound. “Is that light enough for you, baby?”

Seungcheol swallows, and he fucking swears he should not be into this, but he says, “Daddy can… Daddy can go harder, if he wants.”

“Good boy,” Joshua coos, then spanks Seungcheol again, this time harder and sharper, leaving heat on Seungcheol’s ass. He’s playing piano on Seungcheol’s skin. “Count to three, baby. Go slowly.”

“…one,” Seungcheol says tentatively, wincing when Joshua spanks him. His cock is pressing insistently on the lace. It’s getting a little harder to think; he pushes his ass closer to Joshua and counts, “Two.” His mouth falls open when Joshua spanks him a third time with the same intensity. He feels Joshua’s lips on his back.

“One more, baby.”

“Three…” Joshua obliges him and spanks his ass, a little harder than the previous ones so now the hand on Seungcheol’s ass is too warm, almost hot. Seungcheol is this close to grinding on Joshua’s thigh and whines when Joshua massages Seungcheol’s ass and presses kisses on Seungcheol’s back. “Do you want more?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Seungcheol breathes, and he squirms in his seat.

“Count to five for me.”

“One”—the sound is hard enough to be heard from the other side of the room, Seungcheol thinks, and his dick is probably as red as his ass feels—“two”—Joshua’s own dick is nudging at Seungcheol’s ass—“three”—Seungcheol’s grip on the table turns his knuckles ghostly white and he leans his cheek on the table to cool down his heated face—“f-four”—Joshua leans in again to brush Seungcheol’s hair back from his face, and Seungcheol realises only then that he’s sweating so much in such a cold room and feels a little embarrassed that Joshua’s still kissing him on his nape, whispering good things to him—“fi—” Seungcheol breaks down into a whimper at the last spank, so Joshua pulls him closer to him, buries his mouth onto Seungcheol’s shoulder, and this is as close to cuddling as they get, with Joshua’s arms wrapped around Seungcheol’s stomach, extremely warm and present and _close_.

“You’re so good, baby,” Joshua coos. Seungcheol lets himself smile at that. “I think you deserve a reward now.” Joshua reaches for the table to set his things aside before helping Seungcheol sit on it, the cold table a welcome surface for his ass to rest on, and brings Seungcheol’s head down to kiss him while a hand plays with Seungcheol’s stockings. Kisses from Joshua Hong are slow and sweet, or at least they are now, because Joshua is intent on making Seungcheol stop shaking. Seungcheol makes little noises against Joshua’s mouth, both hands wrapped around the back of Joshua’s neck. Joshua pulls away to get the lube and a condom from a side drawer, pulling his cock, hard and red and possibly aching, out of his trousers to slick it up. “Are you ready?” he asks.

Seungcheol licks his lips, not wanting to admit that he’s been playing with the dildo more since his last broadcast, and nods. Joshuatears off the panty and guides him onto his lap, positioning his cock so that it’s aligned with Seungcheol’s entrance and kisses Seungcheol as he enters him slowly, not stopping until Seungcheol’s nicely settled on his lap.

“You’re okay, right, baby?”

“Yeah…” Seungcheol raises his hips until only the tip of Joshua’s cock is left inside then lowers himself on it slowly, building up a rhythm. He grinds his ass down, rolling his hips, and kisses Joshua so he doesn’t make noises.

“You like kissing me,” Joshua murmurs.

“Of course I do,” Seungcheol manages to say as he works himself on Joshua’s lap. “I like kissing, period.” Joshua laughs and indulges him, one hand reaching for Seungcheol’s ass to grab it as Seungcheol rides Joshua. “Can you”—Seungcheol bites his lip—“touch me, Daddy?” He’s close; the tip of his dick leaves a wet spot on Joshua’s shirt where it’s pressed against Joshua. It’s a nice shirt, soft yet crisp, and he thinks Joshua’s noticed the stain but doesn’t mind—Joshua returns the hand on Seungcheol’s ass to the back of Seungcheol’s neck while the other reaches for Seungcheol’s cock, stroking it lightly at first. It leaves Seungcheol squirming, begging for Joshua to go harder. Joshua lifts up his hips to meet Seungcheol halfway, and Seungcheol feels all the air leave his lungs and his stomach tightening. “Daddy,” Seungcheol gasps, arms wrapping themselves around Joshua, and he comes with a cry, mouth trembling against Joshua’s neck as Joshua helps him ride out his orgasm with his hand.

“Good boy,” Joshua says, kissing Seungcheol’s temple. He comes not long after inside Seungcheol, and Seungcheol loves how Joshua’s voice goes low in his ear, how Joshua brings Seungcheol closer to him. “Lift up your hips, baby,” he instructs, and Seungcheol does, thighs trembling as he waits for Joshua to peel off the condom from his cock and throw it in the trash can then to put his cock back in his trousers. Seungcheol sits down on Joshua’s thighs again. “You did so well,” Joshua says.

“I ruined your shirt,” Seungcheol apologises.

“I have more.” Joshua laughs again when he meets Seungcheol’s eyes then pinches Seungcheol’s cheek. “You look so worried. Don’t be.”

“My butt’s really red,” Seungcheol adds, a little dumbly. Joshua’s rubbing soothing circles on his back, the kind that would lull him to sleep if he weren’t wearing stockings on the fifteenth floor of an office building and a little conscious of the whole situation. He lets out a yawn.

“You should go home,” Joshua says, not unkindly. Seungcheol just lets himself be guided off of Joshua’s lap. He puts on his clothes, the feel of his jeans on his bare ass rough and slightly unpleasant; he makes a mental note to not sit down on the train home. Joshua changes out of his stained shirt into a no less casual shirt, but leaves his blazer hanging on the back of his chair and the top two buttons undone so Seungcheol catches a glimpse of Joshua’s collarbones and licks his lips at the sight.

On the way out, Joshua stops Seungcheol, stuffing a wad of cash into the back pocket of his jeans.

“You don’t need to go on cam anymore,” Joshua tells him. “I’ll take care of you.” Seungcheol only nods then heads straight for the elevator, stopping on a random floor to find a toilet where he could count the money Joshua’s just given him, eyes going wide as he flips a fifty thousand won bill after another. The money feels like it’s burning a hole in his bag on the commute home.

Jihoon opens the door for him just as Seungcheol’s fumbling for his keys inside his bag. “How much is it this time?” he asks first, and Seungcheol swears Jihoon’s only thirsty for money most days.

“How’d you know?”

“I had a suspicion.”

“Three million won,” Seungcheol answers. At this rate, he and Jihoon could stop relying on convenience store dinners and order real food; his mouth’s watering from the thought of getting some barbecue. It seems like Jihoon’s read his mind, too, because instead of stepping back to let Seungcheol inside their flat, he puts on a pair of shoes then steps out, closing the door behind them. “Samgyeopsal?”

“I’ll be fucking pissed if we eat anything else,” Jihoon grumbles. Laughing, they walk back out of the apartment complex side by side. There’s a barbecue place on the other side that’s just about to close, so Jihoon turns on the charm Seungcheol never knew he had and gets them a table by the window. A small part of Seungcheol feels satisfied with himself when he goes to pay with three fifty thousand won bills an hour later, stomach full and straining in his jeans, and slightly drunk.

 

***

 

Joshua Hong is inside his university. Or, at least, someone who most definitely looks like him and is as delicately swanlike as he is, complete with Joshua Hong’s long neck and graceful mouth. (And there are pretentious business administration majors who wear crisp button-downs to school when they’re not wearing their fuckboy collared shirts, so it’s not unnatural.) It’s driving Seungcheol up the wall; he sees Joshua Hong from across the corridor before he has to take the stairs up to the second floor and he’s gone by the time Seungcheol gets to the foot of the stairs.

“You look like you saw a ghost,” Jihoon remarks when Seungcheol arrives at the second floor.

“I think I saw him,” Seungcheol says.

Jihoon looks at him weirdly. “Saw who?”

“ _Him_.”

“Ah, you mean Daddy.” Jihoon laughs when Seungcheol glares at him. “He really is here, you know,” he says, “‘cause he’s giving a talk later.”

“I didn’t know about this talk,” Seungcheol grouses. But then again, the science department rarely ever needed to know what’s happening in other departments, especially the school of business.

“It’s open to everyone,” Jihoon offers.

“No way,” Seungcheol panics, crossing his arms. Choi Seungcheol is ratchet today, wearing only a university t-shirt that’s a little too loose on him and joggers because he knew Joshua Hong would never see him like this, but now— “He looked too fucking good,” Seungcheol complains. His next and last class is forty-five minutes from now, but fuck him if he’ll be able to sit down properly and listen, not when Joshua Hong is within a one-kilometre radius from him and is dressed in a fucking pastel pink button-down.

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “If he looks good, then sit in,” he says, and Jihoon’s always been a little too simplistic for Seungcheol.

“What if he sees me?”

“You’re poor as all hell and he knows it,” Jihoon reminds him. “So what if he sees you like that? Maybe he’ll give you more money to buy new clothes.”

Seungcheol pouts at that, though he has been spending the money on clothes and decent dinners. (He’s also bought his mother a necklace, so he thinks the money has gone to good use aside from paying rent.) “My ass is a charity box,” he sighs.

“I know,” Jihoon says, grinning. He reaches for Seungcheol’s butt to give it a playful pat. “I’ve been enjoying all our little pity dates.”

“Everyone knows you’re a slut for chadolbaegi.”

“My girlfriend’s pissed about it, actually.” The bell rings and Jihoon curses, hitching his backpack up his shoulder and grumbling, “Fuck, my class is in the next building.”

“I’ll walk you,” Seungcheol offers. Jihoon doesn’t say no. They start walking to Jihoon’s next class and Seungcheol barely has time to process Jihoon shoving him to the side because he’s bumped into Joshua fucking Hong and his brain is dying and Jihoon’s already brisk walked out of there. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he apologises.

“It’s okay,” Joshua Hong says, and he has both hands on either side of Seungcheol, gripping Seungcheol’s upper arms. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah…”

“Are you attending my talk?”

“No, I’m—” Fuck, Seungcheol’s forgotten the word for it. He tries to wet the inside of his mouth then says, “I’m studying mathematics.”

Joshua’s mouth quirks up. “We use a lot of mathematics in finance. Calculus, even. You should attend the talk.”

“I’ll… see. I have a class at the same time,” Seungcheol replies. It might be true; he doesn’t know yet. Joshua’s let go of his arms after the initial shock of having someone crash into him and Seungcheol kind of misses it already.

Joshua nods. “I see.” He leans in after making sure no one’s around in the corridor. “I’ll be at the Conrad hotel later,” he whispers, then pulls back.

“I don’t… want to hold you up,” Seungcheol says quickly. “You gotta prepare or something.”

Joshua smiles again, and Seungcheol really likes the way he smiles without showing his teeth, how his eyes crinkle at the edges. “Right,” he agrees. “I hope I’ll see you at the talk later.” They walk in opposite directions, which is just as well because Seungcheol ducks into the nearest toilet and splashes water on his face to cool it down.

The rest of Seungcheol’s break is spent looking up where the Conrad hotel is and mapping out the train route (as well as looking up the prices of the hotel rooms because Seungcheol hasn’t gotten over how much money Joshua Hong seems to be throwing at his general direction). He spends his last class feeling like he should change clothes at least, but it ends at six in the evening and by the time he gets out, his stomach isn’t let him rest until he gets there.

The hotel staff brings him up to the fucking penthouse suite, and Seungcheol doesn’t know why he still bothers with straightening his clothes before ringing the doorbell (he doesn’t get a keycard this time, maybe because of how seedy he looks).

As soon as the door opens, he’s pulled in, the door is closed behind them, and his back is pressed against it, bag dumped to the floor. Joshua Hong leans into him, puts his knee between Seungcheol’s legs, and gives him a long kiss. “Hi, baby,” he coos, and Seungcheol can’t help the lopsided and goofy smile he gives him. A hand is reaching into his joggers to bring out his dick—Joshua strokes him quickly, but it’s not like it takes long for Seungcheol to get hard, especially when Joshua is kissing him again and nibbling on his bottom lip.

Seungcheol lets out a laugh. “Did you miss me, Daddy?” he asks, and he feels like he’s earned the right to ask questions, if Joshua Hong is eager enough to jack Seungcheol off within five seconds of him entering the hotel room.

“I did, baby,” Joshua murmurs. “Wanted you since I saw you, earlier.” Seungcheol could imagine what that would be like, getting fucked in one of the toilets inside the school… or maybe in an empty classroom and Joshua’s shirt would get all smudged with chalk at the back from where he would lean on the blackboard as Seungcheol sucks him off then Joshua would have him bend over the teacher’s desk, the edge of the table digging into his stomach. Joshua recalls him from his thoughts by asking, “Is it okay if I blow you?” and Seungcheol wishes he could take a step back, but he’s trapped in this position, cock hard and twitching in Joshua’s hand, so he just nods, his mind going absolutely blank.

Then Joshua Hong gets on his fucking knees in front of Seungcheol, and places both hands on either side of Seungcheol’s waist. The way Joshua’s lips look wrapped around the head of Seungcheol’s cock is the first thing that enters Seungcheol’s mind because Joshua has such a pretty mouth and Seungcheol didn’t think anyone’s lips could be that pink, especially in contrast to his dick, then it’s Joshua sucking on the tip, lapping up at the slit. It’s wet and warm and soft and gentle, each flick of Joshua’s tongue making Seungcheol squirm. Joshua sucks in his cheeks then takes more of Seungcheol in his mouth, and Seungcheol now realises the need for Joshua to hold him like this—Seungcheol would grab him by the hair and fuck his mouth because Joshua Hong is taking his sweet time with Seungcheol’s cock, bobbing his head slowly then inching his way until all of Seungcheol is in his mouth.

“Daddy,” Seungcheol whines. Joshua withdraws from Seungcheol’s dick so he could go along the length of it with his tongue, then takes one of Seungcheol’s balls in his mouth, making Seungcheol let out another whine and his knees bend forward slightly. Seungcheol’s toes are curling inside his sneakers; Joshua uses his teeth to graze on the head of Seungcheol’s cock and it makes Seungcheol lean his head back against the door and bite his lip through his moan. His stomach is warm and tight and he tightens his grip on Joshua’s forearms, curling his fingers against them.

Joshua lets go, kissing the tip of Seungcheol’s cock then asking, “Are you getting close, baby?”

“Yeah,” Seungcheol gasps. Joshua returns his mouth on Seungcheol, quickening his pace and hollowing in his cheeks, making noises that are louder and wetter, his cock now shiny with Joshua’s spit. Seungcheol digs his nails into Joshua’s skin and grits his teeth, desperately wanting to just thrust into Joshua’s mouth, but Joshua grips onto Seungcheol’s hips even more, keeping him in place until he gets Seungcheol to orgasm.

He didn’t think either that someone like Joshua Hong would swallow his come like that, but there it is, with a little bit on the corner of his lips that Joshua darts out a tongue to lick at. Joshua stands up, tucks Seungcheol’s softening dick back in his pants, and kisses him before walking back to one of the sofas to take a drink from the glass on the table.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, his tone so casual like Seungcheol’s just walked through the door at that moment—Joshua’s even washing the taste of Seungcheol out of his mouth with whiskey.

“I…” As if on cue, Seungcheol’s stomach growls to remind him that, no, he hasn’t eaten. “I’m kinda hungry,” he admits.

Joshua’s settled himself on the couch, near the telephone. “What do you want to eat?”

“Uhm…” Seungcheol scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “I kinda just wanted McDonald’s. No fancy stuff, you know?”

Joshua’s lips quirk up again and instead of reaching for the telephone, he raises his hips to get his mobile out of his back pocket. “What do you want?” he asks. Seungcheol knows his favourite things on the menu by heart, so he tells him. “Two orders of chicken nuggets and a double Quarter Pounder with cheese…” Joshua repeats.

“And fries and a Coke,” Seungcheol adds.

“Are you sure? This sounds like a lot.”

“It is,” Seungcheol says, laughing. “I don’t know… I just feel like I’ll need it.” Joshua laughs, too, and places the order, and now Seungcheol feels a little silly about Joshua Hong ordering McDonald’s for him when he can have it delivered himself just fine, but it’s already been done so Seungcheol could say little more than a ‘Thank you’ to him.

“It’ll come in half an hour,” Joshua reads off his phone. “Why don’t you sit down?” 

Seungcheol does look a little stupid standing by the door like that. He leaves his bag somewhere before toeing off his shoes and placing the pair beside the bag. He sits on the sofa with his toes tucked underneath, arms in front of him and hands smoothing out the material of the sofa cover. “Uh, can I… ask you something?” he asks, biting his lip. 

“I don’t see why not.”

“I don’t know—It’s kind of stupid, I mean. I was just, like, gonna ask you why you pay me so much.” Seungcheol’s drawing circles on the sofa with his finger. When he looks at Joshua, Joshua gives him this look, eyebrows knitted together and tongue caught between his lips.

“I didn’t think I was paying you so much,” Joshua says slowly. “I know prostitutes who charge much more…”

“It’s a lot of money to me, Hong-ssi,” Seungcheol protests. Now he also feels cheap as all hell—and awkward; calling Joshua Hong ‘Daddy’ right now doesn’t fit, but Seungcheol realises he hasn’t called Joshua Hong anything else since.

Joshua laughs. “‘Hong-ssi’,” he echoes. “Call me Jisoo.”

“Isn’t that a girl’s name?”

“Josh, then.”

“Josh.” It sounds so much more foreign in Seungcheol’s mouth, like he has to add an extra, subtle syllable at the end so it can bounce off his tongue nicely. Joshua takes another sip of his whiskey as Seungcheol says it, but he’s smiling at Seungcheol, eyes crinkling at the corners, and Seungcheol’s fucked because he loves it a lot; he returns Joshua’s smile. “I like Josh,” he says.

“I like Seungcheol, too.” Joshua puts the glass of whiskey down and licks his lips.

Well. Seungcheol clears his throat.

“Do you want me to pay you more?”

“I—Uh, I was thinking that you don’t have to”—Jihoonie’s gonna bust his ass for that if he ever knows about this conversation—“‘cause, like, it’s not like I mind having sex with you…” Seungcheol’s face is heating up again. “I look forward to it, actually.”

Joshua just nods, but Seungcheol suspects he’s not going to do as Seungcheol requests, anyway. (He’s equal parts relieved and disappointed—at least Jihoon won’t kill him for not being able to afford another barbecue dinner until they graduate and get honest jobs.) The doorbell rings, and Seungcheol scrambles for the door.

The hotel staff hands him the food, making Seungcheol stretch out his arms to gather all of it.

“Wait… the money…”

“It’s been paid for, already,” the staff tells him before taking a bow and leaving.

Seungcheol dumps the food on the table by the couch and sits cross-legged again, sighing when he brings out all the food. He rips off the top of the carton for the Quarter Pounder then dumps his fries into a mountain on it. Joshua watches him open a pack of dipping sauce and laughs again when Seungcheol looks happy taking a bite out of a nugget.

“You eat like a pro.”

“Of course,” Seungcheol says through a mouthful of chicken nuggets and fries.

“Why do you like McDonald’s so much?” Joshua asks.

“We had, like, one in Daegu, and I barely went to it,” Seungcheol replies. He licks his fingers with a smack before digging his thumbs underneath the Quarter Pounder to lift it up. “Here, it’s, like, everywhere. I love it.” As he’s chewing on a bite of the burger, he pushes the mountain of fries closer to Joshua. “Want some?”

He doesn’t expect Joshua Hong to get up from his seat and sit down cross-legged across him on the floor, dragging the mountain of fries closer to himself then dipping it into the sauce for the nuggets, making Seungcheol protest. Joshua laughs and rips open a packet of ketchup with his teeth, squeezing out the contents onto a napkin.

“I went to KFC all the time in high school,” Joshua tells him. “When my mom finally started giving me allowance, I’d go there after school with my friends.” Seungcheol, for the life of him, can’t imagine a young Joshua Hong, especially one who seemed to be lacking in money. “It got worse in college, ‘cause I was in Pennsylvania while my mom was in LA and no one was there to force me to eat right. My roommate didn’t care as long as he got to eat.”

“I bet you were a fat college student,” Seungcheol quips, and he really does love hearing Joshua laugh. He dips a nugget into the sauce and shoves it into his mouth whole.

“I wasn’t,” Joshua tells him as he drags another fry through the ketchup and puts it in his mouth, chewing silently. Once he’s finished chewing, he adds, “I was always a skinny kid, even when I tried to get fat. When I moved here, there were clients bringing me to fancy dinners who’d order extra food for me because I look like a stick.” Seungcheol offers him a nugget, which Joshua shakes his head at and tells him it’s Seungcheol’s food to begin with, so he shouldn’t be eating it anyway. “You know, though, I love fast food more.”

“It’s just so satisfying, right?” Seungcheol says. He takes a big bite of his burger then grabs three fries at once and stuffs it in his mouth. After a bit of chewing, he reaches for the Coke to swallow it down.

“I flew to Shanghai once, and a client brought me to a French restaurant,” Josh begins to tell him (and Seungcheol has no idea how to process all of this information, all these images of Joshua being… Josh), “but after the dinner was over and she brought me to my hotel, I walked to KFC and got a bucket.” Seungcheol laughs at that. “Don’t get me wrong, fine dining is really delicious, but you have to be in the mood for it.”

“Like an enlightened mood.”

“Kind of, yeah,” Joshua agrees. “But I wasn’t then; I arrived in Shanghai that morning and went straight to a meeting, so I barely ate.” He says it so nonchalantly, which makes Seungcheol stop dissecting every word Joshua said in an attempt to be less of an alien. “When I got there, I think I ate the whole bucket in ten minutes? The staff were shocked, I remember.”

“Yeah, I see why,” Seungcheol tells him with a laugh. “You look very neat and serious—Hey, speaking of, I got another question.” Joshua raises an eyebrow at him but nods for Seungcheol to continue. “Why’s your username churchoppa?”

“I was a church kid,” Joshua answers, and Seungcheol laughs the hardest at that. “I’m serious, some girls in high school found out I went to church, so it stuck.”

“You’re not very church oppa-like right now,” Seungcheol teases.

“What, church oppa on the streets but daddy in the sheets?” Joshua says it in English, and it’s got less to do with Seungcheol understanding what Joshua said than it has to do with Joshua saying it in _English_ —Josh just sounds better in English. “I still go to church, by the way,” he says, slipping back to Korean.

“I’m sure you have a lot to talk about with the priest,” Seungcheol says. He dips the last nugget into the sauce and eats it, using the fries to mop up the last of the sauce as he’s chewing. Joshua shrugs and reaches for the last of the fries while Seungcheol finishes his burger, then he helps Seungcheol clean up, hand placed firmly on the small of Seungcheol’s back as they throw the empty food cartons into the trash can.

Joshua reaches for the telephone, pressing the button for room service. “You want popsicles?” he asks Seungcheol, who just twiddles his thumbs and bounces on his toes, stomach doing flips inside of him.

“I wanna try that twenty-five thing,” Seungcheol blurts out.

“‘Twenty-five thing’?” Joshua repeats. “Sorry, I’m not…”

“You offered it when we first met,” Seungcheol reminds him. Joshua makes that ‘ah’ face and nods.

“You can try that, too,” Joshua suggests. “I just wanted to let you try something I really liked as a kid.”

That—that’s not something Seungcheol should be getting from his sugar daddy. The staff on the other end must have picked up because Joshua slips into English again; Seungcheol only recognises the word 'chocolate' before Joshua hangs up and makes gestures for Seungcheol to sit on his lap. Already, the situation is a little weird, and Seungcheol breaks into a giggle because of it, but he straddles Joshua's lap anyway and lets Joshua kiss him.

“Stop laughing,” Joshua admonishes him. Seungcheol has to cover his mouth with a hand.

“I'm sorry,” Seungcheol says through his hand, still laughing. “This is…”

“Funny?”

“Weird. I know so much about you now. And I'm sceptical about the popsicle thing,” Seungcheol tells him, and he feels it’s not unearned; something will happen with the popsicle.

“So now you don't want to kiss me?”

“I do,” Seungcheol protests, and cups Joshua's face to kiss him to prove it. He's managed to stop laughing now, concentrated on getting Joshua to tug on his hair; he catches Joshua's bottom lip with his mouth and nibbles on it. Joshua moans against him and pulls Seungcheol closer to him, and Seungcheol sighs when Joshua tangles his fingers in Seungcheol's hair and pulls on the short strands slightly.

“It’s here,” Joshua groans when he hears the doorbell, head leaning on the back of the sofa after having nestled itself on the crook of Seungcheol’s neck previously.

Seungcheol gets off him to open the door, insisting on getting the cooler from the staff instead of having them wheel in the cloth-covered table. He sets it on the table, kneels on the floor, then opens the cooler. “What kind of popsicles are these?”

Joshua gets up to sit down beside Seungcheol again on the floor, leaning into Seungcheol to grab a popsicle from the cooler and says, “It’s pudding.”

“It’s chocolate.”

“Just try it, Seungcheol,” Joshua scolds him, nudging the tip of the popsicle against Seungcheol’s lips until the heat from Seungcheol’s mouth begins to melt a little bit of it. Seungcheol darts out his tongue to lick at the chocolate then pulls away. Joshua brings the popsicle back to his mouth and begins to suck on the tip of the popsicle, eyes slipping shut.

“It tastes normal,” Seungcheol says, but Joshua extends a finger out to shush him.

“They got the taste right,” Joshua tells him, voice soft. “I haven’t eaten this in years.” Seungcheol doesn’t want to know just how long ago Josh’s last taste of whatever this popsicle is was—he parts his lips when Joshua offers him his popsicle again so he doesn’t have to ask. The taste is better the less frozen it becomes, deepening to something that tastes less like cheap chocolate and more like a really sugary piece of dark chocolate.

“Yeah,” Seungcheol begins as he pulls away, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, “it’s good.”

Joshua sets the popsicle down on a plate then reaches for Seungcheol to suck on the chocolate that’s stained his lips, licking at the corners of Seungcheol’s mouth to get the chocolate stuck there, too. It makes Seungcheol giggle again and smile against Josh’s mouth but he leans his body forward, cups Josh’s face in his hands.

“Let’s go to the room, baby,” Joshua says as soon as there was a long enough pause between kisses. He brings the popsicles to the room while leading in Seungcheol, hand wrapped around Seungcheol’s wrist with the other, to the bedroom.

Seungcheol doesn’t feel any sort of urgency; Joshua sets down the popsicles by the bed then carefully unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt while Seungcheol shimmies out of his joggers, kicking them to the side as he takes off his shirt, and leaves both on the floor in favour of laying down on the bed on his stomach and spread-eagled.

“That’s good, baby,” Joshua murmurs. There’s a faint whisper of clothing being rustled.

“What are we doing today, Daddy?” Seungcheol slurs. He’s never had his cheek pressed against anything so soft. The air conditioner also cooled down the sheets to something pleasant against his skin. He runs a hand over the empty spaces, trying to catch more of the cold on his palm.

“Just trust me, baby.” Joshua’s belt and trousers are now off, falling to the floor with a clink. He joins Seungcheol on the bed, the bed dipping where Josh takes his place. Seungcheol moves so he doesn’t take up most of the bed, then moves again after Joshua tells him to get on his knees until all he can see is the headboard, squirming a little when Joshua places his hands on Seungcheol’s hips then murmurs, “Just like that, baby,” against the shell of Seungcheol’s ear.

“You’re gonna do something with the popsicle, aren’t you?” Seungcheol says as Joshua’s mouthing at the back of his neck. When he feels Joshua smile, he bursts out laughing. “ _Oh my god_.”

“What?” Joshua laughs, too, nuzzling his nose against Seungcheol’s nape. He has his arms wrapped around Seungcheol’s torso (and Seungcheol appreciates the warmth and how it feels like a hug). “Are you judging me because it’s such an old married couple thing to do?”

Then what does that make them, Seungcheol wonders, who are neither old nor married. “I’m not judging you,” he lies. “This just feels out of place.”

“I wanted to do this since I was in… high school, maybe?”

“During your church oppa days?” Joshua bursts out laughing again, then rests his chin on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “Why?”

“I like food,” Joshua deadpans, “and I like sex, so I don’t see why they shouldn’t be together.”

Seungcheol’s just very much relieved it’s foodplay and not torture porn, like Jihoon warned him. He gasps when Joshua drips some of the melting popsicle on Seungcheol’s back, arches up from the cold. It’s then replaced by Joshua’s warm tongue, wet and slightly rough, as he licks away every last bit of chocolate off Seungcheol. A little more of the melted popsicle lands on Seungcheol’s back and down the curve of his ass, dangerously close to his entrance. Joshua licks it off right away then places his hands on either of Seungcheol’s ass cheeks, spreading them open to lick at the hole.

“ _God_ ,” Seungcheol exhales. Joshua pulls away to suck on the popsicle for a while, and all Seungcheol can hear is Joshua slurping up the chocolate, all of which goes straight to his dick, until Joshua returns to Seungcheol, lips and tongue cold. Seungcheol nearly jumpswhen Joshua presses the tip of his tongue into Seungcheol’s entrance, working his mouth until it warms up inside him and Seungcheol is grinding down on Joshua’s mouth to get more. There’s more melted popsicle spread on Seungcheol’s back, running down his thighs; Joshua licks it all away before it lands on the bedsheets, licks Seungcheol all over.

“You were saying about food sex?” Joshua teases. He’s melting the last of that popsicle again on Seungcheol’s back, placing it back on the plate once the popsicle stick scrapes at bare skin.

“Daddy’s really good at it,” Seungcheol admits.

“That’s good, baby,” Joshua coos, then returns to tracing the cold away with his tongue. Once he’s back on Seungcheol’s ass, he stays there for a good while, first licking long stripes from his balls to his entrance, then fucking him, making the same slurping noises that leave Seungcheol arching so that his ass his obscenely close to Joshua’s mouth and he’s pressed his forehead against his arms. Seungcheol twists at the bedsheets, grips them so hard his knuckles turn white.

He wants to touch himself but as soon as he lets go of the bedsheets to snake a hand down to his cock, Joshua takes it and pins it behind him by the wrist.

“You don’t trust me,” Joshua accuses him. Seungcheol wants to bury his face against the pillows, it being extremely hot and flushed right now. Instead, he lets out a long whine, hand twitching against Joshua’s grip. When Seungcheol doesn’t reply, Joshua calls for him: “Seungcheol.”

“Daddy,” whimpers Seungcheol, “please—let me—”

“Daddy wants you to behave,” Joshua admonishes him. “Baby can do that, right? You’re a good boy, right?”

When Seungcheol looked down earlier, he saw his cock glaringly red and dripping, felt it ache. His knees will give soon and the one arm left supporting him is quivering—at this point, he just wants to grind against the mattress until he comes and makes a great big mess on the bed. “I’ll be good, Daddy, I promise,” he says, then groans when Joshua leaves him entirely. It’s a few minutes before he comes back, the bed dipping again when Joshua kneels behind Seungcheol’s spread legs.

“Sorry, baby,” Joshua apologises, “the ice cream’s about to melt.” He goes back to rimming Seungcheol, mouths at the curve of Seungcheol’s ass. When he lowers his head to take one of Seungcheol’s balls in his mouth, he stops short of it to say, “You’re dripping,” with his voice going soft and full of awe. Seungcheol hisses when Joshua darts out a tongue to catch the drop of precome beading on the tip of Seungcheol’s cock then moans when Joshua traces the length of Seungcheol’s cock with his tongue before sucking on his balls.

“Ah—”

“Are you close, baby?”

Seungcheol could only whimper out his yes, mewling against the pillows and shivering from the orgasm building inside him. Joshua lets go of the hand pinned behind his back, and Seungcheol uses it to keep himself up, face burrowing on the pillow to cover his shout when he comes, entire body shaking.

Joshua rides him through it with flicks of his tongue on Seungcheol’s hole then helps Seungcheol on his back, caging him with his arms then kissing him—small, light, butterfly kisses that make Seungcheol giggle. The next kisses get a little more insistent; Seungcheol nibbles on Joshua’s bottom lip, cock twitching from hearing him moan above him, and Joshua ducks his head down to suck on the skin on Seungcheol’s throat, pulling at the skin with his lips then lapping his tongue on it. Tomorrow, there’s going to be one huge-ass ugly hickey there, and it takes Joshua Hong a really long time to get it there, sucking slowly on the skin but sharp enough to make Seungcheol gasp, then soothing it with his tongue.

Once Joshua’s satisfied, he reaches for the lube by the bedside table, then slicks up his fingers, settles himself between Seungcheol’s legs. Seungcheol raises his knees to give Joshua better access and wriggles his hips against the pad of Joshua’s finger, which is teasing at his entrance. He’s hard again, sucking in a breath when Joshua enters the finger inside him. Joshua’s finger slips inside him easily, enough for Joshua to notice, because once he’s gotten inside Seungcheol up to his knuckle, he pulls out and inserts two fingers in at once.

Joshua fucks Seungcheol with his fingers slowly, scissoring his fingers and pressing on Seungcheol’s prostate until Seungcheol’s fully hard again, cock lying on his stomach. He fucks Seungcheol until Seungcheol whines and chases Joshua’s fingers with his hips and Joshua’s laughing about it, presses kisses along the length of Seungcheol’s torso and takes a nipple in his mouth. Seungcheol’s head falls back against the pillows, body arching upwards and towards Joshua’s mouth and fingers and warmth.

Seungcheol doesn’t want to admit that Joshua Hong reprimanding him makes him embarrassed as all ever-loving fuck; he clutches at the pillow and stifles his whimpers for daddy with it, until Joshua’s mouthing at his jaw, coaxing Seungcheol to kiss him back, and his fingers are tracing circles on Seungcheol’s entrance.

“Do you want me?” Joshua asks.

“ _Yes_.” Seungcheol lets out a small sob against Joshua’s mouth when he enters three fingers inside him, fucking him hard with the slick, wet sounds interjecting with Seungcheol’s groans. He wants to break and fall apart, one of his hands reaching up to fist Joshua’s hair, so Joshua slows down, fucks him achingly slow, licks away the precome staining Seungcheol’s stomach from where the tip of his cock is pressed against him. “Daddy, _please_ —”

Joshua just hums, sending vibrations across Seungcheol’s body. He slips his fingers out of Seungcheol entirely and places both hands on Seungcheol’s thighs, gives them a squeeze. “You promised you’ll be a good boy,” he says. Seungcheol nods, and he wants to nod his head so hard that it will unhinge and fall off so Josh would know he’s earnest. “You can wait a little bit for Daddy, right?” (Seungcheol wants to tell him he hopes he gets blue balls.)

When Seungcheol’s gasped out his yes, Joshua takes his cock into his mouth again, laying his tongue along the length of it before lapping away the precome on the slit. Seungcheol can’t feel his knees.

“What if I make you come right now?” Joshua says lightly, still licking along Seungcheol’s shaft. “Would you like that?”

“I want”—Seungcheol licks his lips—“everything, Daddy. I want everything.” Joshua takes one of his balls in his mouth again. Seungcheol’s stopped breathing properly a little earlier on, chest heaving and orgasm building inside him again, cock straining against thin air.

“Define ‘everything’, baby.”

“I want you, Daddy,” Seungcheol answers. “I want to come.”

“You want my cock?”

“Fuck, _yes_ ,” Seungcheol sighs. He nearly bursts into tears when Joshua leaves him entirely, follows him with his eyes as Joshua enters the bathroom and comes out with a condom. Joshua settles himself again between Seungcheol’s legs then rips open the packet with his teeth.

As he’s putting on the condom, Joshua asks, “Are you okay, Seungcheol?”

“I…” Seungcheol just wants to come _so bad_ —his entire body is already shivering in anticipation. “I missed you, Daddy.”

“I’m here, baby,” Joshua reassures him. He lubes himself up then positions himself against Seungcheol’s hole. He slowly inches his way in, meets Seungcheol’s eyes then kisses Seungcheol’s whimpers away. The rhythm they build up together is slow—Joshua rolls his hips gently, hands cupping Seungcheol’s face to kiss him but falls short so that his breath is ghosting over Seungcheol’s lips. At some point, Seungcheol hears Joshua murmur his name, wisps of warm breath, and his eyes slip shut.

(Nestled on the pillows and soft bedsheets like that, Seungcheol feels like he’s floating.)

“Baby,” Joshua murmurs, thrusting into him quicker. He repeats it, the word spilling out of his lips frantically until he comes. Seungcheol can feel him tremble and swears his heart flutters when Joshua places shaky kisses along the working column of his throat. “You’re so good, baby,” Joshua coos, kissing him. He snakes a hand down Seungcheol’s body to jerk him off and Seungcheol falls apart from the slightest suggestion of a touch, gasping in Joshua’s mouth and climaxes with a sob, the beginnings of tears forming at the corner of his eyes. Barely anything comes out, but Seungcheol’s shaking everywhere.

Joshua sweeps Seungcheol’s hair back and looks at him with a soft, lazy smile, moving his head up to kiss Seungcheol’s tears away, catching them just before they fall. He gets them both up then wets a towel in the bathroom to clean Seungcheol up, wiping away the come on his stomach and the backs of his thighs gently. Seungcheol smiles contentedly against the pillow and accepts the popsicle Joshua hands out to him from the mini fridge.

“You know,” Seungcheol says, slurping up where the popsicle’s melted so the drops of chocolate don’t fall on the pillow that’s covering his lap, “this is really good. Like, it gets better the more you eat it.” He’s leaning back against the headboard, feet tucked from under him. Joshua’s lying on his side and brings his wrist to his mouth to lick away the chocolate.

“Yeah?” Joshua smiles, eyes crinkling. He reaches for Seungcheol’s free hand and laces their fingers together, laughing when Seungcheol ducks his head down to cover his reddening face.

 

***

 

“You’re fucked,” Jihoon tells him. Seungcheol groans into the throw pillow, pressing it down on his face. Jihoon cards his fingers through Seungcheol’s hair, fidgeting from the weight of Seungcheol’s head on his lap, but he doesn’t nudge Seungcheol off. “Seriously, hyung, the money keeps escalating.” Joshua left five million won on the bedside table before he left, some time before midnight after eating dinner while watching variety shows on TV.

“That’s not the only thing escalating,” Seungcheol tells him. Maybe Joshua Hong’s paid him for the intimacy and domesticity, but a part of him knows that’s not true, not after watching _The Return of Superman_ and Joshua admits that his mom’s eager for him to have children and tackles Seungcheol for laughing, burrowing his face in the crook of Seungcheol’s neck until Seungcheol’s breathless.

Jihoon stops playing with Seungcheol’s hair. He takes the throw pillow from Seungcheol’s hand then sets it aside so he can face Seungcheol, face twisted with concern. “What do you mean?”

“I got called in by the office earlier,” Seungcheol tells him. They asked him if he applied for any scholarship.

“Why?”

“Someone’s paying for my tuition until I graduate.”

“Fuck you,” Jihoon says. “I need that, too.”

“Find your own sugar daddy,” Seungcheol quips, though Seungcheol is ready to go to Joshua’s office to decline the offer.

“Don’t fucking decline him,” Jihoon warns.

Seungcheol whines. “How am I going to tell my parents?”

Jihoon snorts and says, “Really, hyung, it’s like you haven’t lied to your parents before.”

 

***

 

Seungcheol nearly stammers when he enters the building where Joshua Hong lives. There is a fancy-ass doorman wearing gloves, like Seungcheol’s in a hotel, and Seungcheol has his phone in hand with the text Joshua sent him, prepared to show it off, but instead, he’s just led to the elevators with the door held open for him until he steps inside. He goes straight to the penthouse and rings the doorbell of the apartment at the end of the corridor.

Joshua Hong is wearing glasses and a fucking moss green sweater, and Seungcheol wants to take the elevator back down so he could go home and lie down.

“Hi,” Seungcheol exhales, a silly smile spreading on his face.

“Hi,” Joshua says, smiling back. He pushes his glasses up his nose, and Seungcheol really wants to die (or kiss his nose, or both).

“You’re wearing glasses,” Seungcheol remarks.

“Ah, I wear contacts when I go out,” Joshua tells him, stepping aside so Seungcheol could go inside. Seungcheol follows and leaves his shoes by the door. “Do you want a drink?”

_Yes_. “Uh… I guess,” Seungcheol says. Joshua pours him a bit of whiskey into a glass then hands it to him. Seungcheol eyes the whiskey, swirls it a bit inside the glass.

“You said you wanted to try the twenty-five thing,” Joshua explains. “It’s a twenty-five year old whiskey from Japan.”

“It’s older than me,” is what Seungcheol says. He takes a sip and just notes how it goes down smoothly, wondering if Joshua would reprimand him if he drinks the whole thing straight up. Instead, he sits down on the couch opposite Joshua and takes small, but frequent, sips.

He’s gotten used to Joshua chatting him up before fucking him senseless, but his stomach is knotting up too tightly in him still. There’s a guitar by the foot of Joshua’s chair that he notices, so he brings that up first. “You play the guitar?” he asks.

Joshua looks down at the guitar and nods. “Do you want me to play you something?” he offers. Seungcheol says yes and takes another sip, curling up on the couch and pillowing his head on his arm. Josh picks up the guitar and plucks it lightly then starts the intro to a song Seungcheol doesn’t recognise, so he thinks it’s something old or something American. True enough, Joshua sings in English, voice a little shaky, and Seungcheol feels his stomach calm down.

“You’re good at that,” Seungcheol tells Joshua after he’s finished and Joshua smiles into his glass of whiskey. Seungcheol feels all warm, warm enough to ask, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why did you pay my tuition?”

Joshua shrugs. “I wanted to,” he answers quickly. Seungcheol feels his face heat up and he drinks the last of the whiskey in his glass before setting it on the coffee table in front of him.

“Thank you,” Seungcheol tells him shyly. Joshua acknowledges it with a nod.

There’s something in a drawer that Joshua stands up to get—a long purple box that Joshua holds out in front of him. “Daddy has a new toy,” Joshua says, grinning.

Seungcheol opens the box and lets out another laugh, the fluttering in his stomach returning with full force. He takes it out in his hands, rubs the smallest bead between his fingers then circles the biggest one around his thumb and forefinger to gauge the size, mouth hurting from smiling so widely. It’s cold to the touch, with a handle at the end. “This isn’t very church oppa of you,” he says.

“Seungcheol,” Joshua warns.

“I’m kidding.” Seungcheol laughs. “Will you take care of me, Daddy?” he asks.

“Of course, baby,” Joshua replies. He helps Seungcheol up from the couch then leads him to the bedroom, where two of the walls were replaced with solid glass, so what Seungcheol sees is the open blue sky bathing the entire room with light and outside, a balcony panelled with wooden tiles.

The bed is large and square and soft, but before Seungcheol could lie down on it, Joshua draws him in for a kiss, hands going underneath Seungcheol’s shirt to push it off of him. Seungcheol raises his arms then once his shirt is off, curls his fingers around the soft material of Joshua’s sweater. Next off are Seungcheol’s jeans and Seungcheol bends down to take off his socks before taking off Joshua’s glasses and tugging on the sweater to get it off Joshua, who covers Seungcheol’s fingers with his own and guides him.

Joshua Hong, apparently, has abs, and either he was wearing clothes or Seungcheol was too preoccupied with making sure he doesn’t come too soon for Seungcheol to notice them before. Seungcheol runs a hand over them, mouth parting slightly. Everything else about Joshua’s torso is tight and sturdy, so Seungcheol takes his sweet time exploring every inch of it, laying his mouth where he can and taking Joshua’s nipple into his mouth. Joshua sighs, pets Seungcheol’s hair.

Seungcheol gets to the line of hair trailing Joshua’s belly button and mouths at it, but Joshua pulls him back up just as he’s about to undo the belt. He’s led to the bed and that’s when Joshua undoes the belt, making sure Seungcheol’s comfortable on his back before tying his wrists above his head with it. The leather creaks when Seungcheol tries to move his wrists, and he’s able to at least move them around comfortably.

“Are you good, baby?” Joshua asks.

“Yes, Daddy,” Seungcheol answers. Joshua gets out the lube from his bedside drawer and the anal beads, first coating his fingers with the lube then sliding a finger into Seungcheol without much preamble. He fucks Seungcheol until he’s whimpering for a second one. 

Joshua kisses him to shut him up as he inserts a finger in alongside the first. Seungcheol wants to grab on to something but all he can do is grind down on Joshua’s obscenely long fucking fingers. “I think that’s enough,” Joshua says and pulls out, leaving Seungcheol feeling empty until the first bead teases against his hole, cold and insistent and slick with lube. “Do you want this?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Seungcheol gasps. He sucks in his stomach when the bead enters. Joshua lets him get used to it first, waits for it to warm up inside of Seungcheol before inserting a second one, slightly bigger in diameter. “How many are there?” he has to ask.

“Ten,” Joshua answers. He inserts another one, and Seungcheol finds it okay until around the seventh bead, when all of it are pressing inside of him and he feels full, making a face when Joshua presses the eighth one against his hole without pushing it in yet. “Baby,” he says, looking up, “are you okay?”

“F-Full…” is all Seungcheol can say. He lets out a loud moan when Joshua pushes in the bead. They shift inside Seungcheol when he moves his hips, making his knees weak and his stomach quiver.

“You’re so cute,” Joshua coos. “Two more, baby. The last one’s big.”

Seungcheol whines. He whines loudly and obscenely, hips snapping up when Joshua enters in the ninth one. “Please, Daddy, I want—” The last one is teasing Seungcheol’s entrance, and Seungcheol can feel the width of it, just knows it’s going to stretch him wide open. Joshua smiles at him and pushes his sweat-slicked hair back.

“Shh, baby, you’re doing so well,” Joshua reassures him. Seungcheol whimpers against Joshua’s thumb. “One last. You can do it, baby. Do it for Daddy.” Seungcheol gulps, plants both feet firmly on the bed, and tightens his core. When the last one enters him, there’s a stretch that makes Seungcheol hiss. He really wants to grab on to something or touch his dick so he just scrabbles his hands on the headboard for purchase. “I wish you could see yourself,” Joshua tells him, bringing Seungcheol out of his thoughts. “You’re so open, so _good_.” He darts out a tongue to lick away the precome beading on the head of Seungcheol’s cock, but does nothing more than that.

What an asshole. Seungcheol’s mouth goes slack and he just lets himself swear it all out. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ —It’s— _Fuck_ —”

“That’s good, baby. Daddy wants to hear you,” Joshua says as he hooks his fingers around the ring-shaped handle at the end of the string of beads. He holds Seungcheol steady through a firm hand placed on Seungcheol’s raised inner thigh. He pulls until the three biggest come out of Seungcheol in one go and Seungcheol shouts, chest heaving.

Seungcheol’s dick is straining and red and standing tall and proud, but Joshua Hong is fucking ignoring it and Seungcheol wants to die, every joint in his body turned into quivering masses of jelly. Joshua inserts the eighth one back in.

“Look at you, taking it in so easily,” Joshua tells him. He’s laying kisses on Seungcheol’s inner thighs as he inserts the ninth one, awe on his face as it goes in easily. “My baby’s a little slut.”

Holy _fuck_. Seungcheol didn’t know he liked being called a slut, but he has to protest, “I’m not a slut, Daddy. I’m yours,” and gets rewarded with the last one and Seungcheol lets out a high-pitched whine. Everything is pressing up everywhere—a large, looming, overwhelming presence in his body that’s difficult to ignore. Joshua sits back and watches; Seungcheol’s grinding down on the beads inside him, circling his hips and arching his back. If Joshua won’t touch him soon, he’ll go crazy.

“You look like a slut,” Joshua says. He licks his lips then leans his head down to take the head of Seungcheol’s cock in his mouth. Seungcheol lets out another shout then bites down hard on his lip right after, whimpering as Joshua laps up the precome.

“I’m gonna come, Daddy,” Seungcheol pants. “I’m gonna—” His thighs are threatening to close, so Joshua keeps them open. Joshua also lets go of Seungcheol’s cock, making a wet pop when he does. “ _Fuck_ ,” he whines, “I was so _close_ —”

“Not yet, baby. Daddy wants you to be good.”

“Daddy, _please_ —” Seungcheol stops short of saying he needs to come.

“I’m being good for you,” Joshua murmurs, bringing up his entire body to kiss Seungcheol, coaxing whimpers out of him. “You can be good for Daddy, too.” Seungcheol just nods, cock throbbing and ass grinding against the sheets. “Daddy wants you so bad.”

A tug of the handle brings out half of the beads, and Seungcheol fucking _shrieks._ He didn’t think he was capable of it. Suddenly he’s so glad that Joshua’s apartment is as huge as it is—he can’t imagine what it would be like doing this in his shoddy apartment, where Jihoon could even hear the scratching of his pen on paper from the other room on a quiet night. The lighting is infinitely better, too—Joshua’s skin looks amazing in broad daylight. Seungcheol squirms into the bed, cock twitching, and Joshua’s just ghosting over him, fingers hooked around the handle.

Every time Seungcheol tightens himself up to make sure he doesn’t come just makes it worse; the bead of precome that’s formed on his slit is now rolling down the length of his dick, and Seungcheol doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. Joshua slowly puts in two more beads, waiting for them to settle inside of Seungcheol.

“How does it feel?” Joshua asks him.

“I can’t—I want…” All Seungcheol can think of is ‘fuck’, so that’s what he tells Joshua. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.” Joshua reenters all of the beads one at a time, making sure Seungcheol’s circling his hips and clamping down on each bead to receive it well, then fucking leaves them all in there while he goes to Seungcheol’s side and cups his face.

Seungcheol blinks and something warm and wet splashes on his face, which Joshua thumbs away. Joshua has to press kisses on Seungcheol’s eyelashes and nose and cheeks and forehead amidst his whimpers, hands stretching from where they were tied up above him.

“Baby, baby,” Joshua coos, “I wish you could see yourself right now.” Seungcheol can’t think, body both tense and limp at the same time, all his limbs quivering. He just takes all the kisses Joshua gives him without doing much in return. “We’re almost finished, baby. You did _so_ well…”

Josh unties the belt then sets it aside, taking each of Seungcheol’s wrists and massaging circles into them with his thumb. The action is soothing; Seungcheol sighs and lets out a deep breath. His cock is still aching and he wants to reach for it, just stroke himself into orgasm with the beads still inside him, but Joshua stops him, makes him promise not to, so Seungcheol just fists at the sheets.

“Don’t come either yet, baby,” Joshua instructs, and Seungcheol wants to protest, has been holding his orgasm for so fucking long his cock might go limp permanently, but he obeys, gritting his teeth and holding his breath when Joshua pulls out all of the beads so he doesn’t come, but he’s dangerously close, and he thinks that even a gust of wind on his dick will make him come.

Seungcheol shivers on the bed. Joshua lowers his trousers and searches the bedside drawer for a condom and it takes a while for him to get the words out. “I want Daddy to come inside me,” he says, voice small, and that’s all it takes for Joshua to slam the drawer shut without getting a condom and to hook Seungcheol’s legs over his shoulders. He aligns his cock to Seungcheol’s entrance then inches in slowly, quickly building up a rhythm until everything quiets down and it’s just Joshua panting against Seungcheol’s ear and the slap of their bodies hitting each other.

Some kudos has to be given to Joshua, who makes sure there is no friction getting anywhere near Seungcheol’s dick until he comes inside of Seungcheol with a groan, spilling out everything inside him. They stay like that until Joshua’s stopped trembling enough to pull out and laughs at how hard Seungcheol still is. Seungcheol would hit him and blame him for being the reason his dick will fall off, but he comes as soon as Joshua takes him in his mouth, panting, “Josh… _Josh_ —” as he grips at Joshua’s hair, probably hard enough for it to hurt, his hips snapping up to fuck Joshua’s mouth as Joshua milks out the last of his orgasm.

Joshua Hong swallows his come then lays his head down on Seungcheol’s thigh, panting heavily. “How was that, baby?”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol says weakly, laughing. If he looks up, the white ceiling looks like it’s pulsing in technicolour. He closes his eyes and tries to even out his breathing, each breath coming out less shaky than the last.

They lie down on the bed, both too tired to clean themselves up, and Joshua Hong is insanely sweet post-sex, letting Seungcheol curl up by his side as they watch the afternoon fade into sunset, his hand resting comfortably on Seungcheol’s head.

“You could”—Joshua clears his throat—“stay with me, if you want.”

“I don’t… understand…” Seungcheol says, but he panics anyway, and gets himself up before Joshua could say anything. “I have to go.” He puts on his clothes quickly then rushes out, not entirely sure how he’s managed to run to the convenience store on the next block with weak-ass limbs and an ass full of come, but he does, and he enters the store, buys a pack of cigarettes and a carton of chocolate milk and sits outside where he lights up the first one.

Jihoon is not happy that he’s called, but his irritation quickly turns to worry when Seungcheol doesn’t say anything. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks.

“He asked me to stay,” Seungcheol tells him. “I don’t know—It just… it’s not something you say to someone you just used anal beads on, right?”

Jihoon makes gagging sounds on the other line. “Don’t fucking tell me about fucking _anal beads_ ,” he gripes, “but, to be honest, it really depends. Are you at that level yet?”

“I don’t know?” Seungcheol takes a deep drag from his cigarette and feels the churning in his stomach get worse. The taste of the chocolate milk reminds him of the stupid fucking popsicle so he drains it in one go while barely tasting it. “He tells me shit.”

“What kind of shit?” Jihoon prompts.

“Like, about his childhood. He played me guitar…”

“Okay, hyung, it sounds like you already know what you want to do. I’m just worried that he’ll stop giving you money after this,” Jihoon says.

“I could just let you rot while I stay in his really nice apartment,” Seungcheol muses.

“But you won’t, because you don’t like being a bad hyung,” Jihoon tells him. “By the way, this shoudn’t influence your decision, but the landlady told me someone paid for our rent for two years.”

“How the fuck did he…”

“Look, hyung, I don’t care anymore, and he wants to be intimate with you, and you have a crush on him—”

“I don’t,” Seungcheol protests. He was too focused on what Jihoon was saying to take another drag, the thing burning down to a stub between his fingers. He flicks the butt to the floor then grinds on it with his shoe, lighting another one.

He swears he can hear Jihoon roll his eyes from the other line. “Sure, hyung, you don’t. Not that it matters anymore, right? Joshua Hong likes you.”

“Are we in high school?” Seungcheol can hear his own voice rising, getting frantic. He raises the cigarette to his lips and takes a long drag, flicking out the ash onto the sidewalk.

“You might as well be,” Jihoon tells him. “Hyung, I can’t keep talking you through this. My groupmates are starting to get pissed.”

“Yeah, okay, I got it,” Seungcheol tells him. They hang up at the same time, but Seungcheol doesn’t leave the convenience store just yet. It takes him half the pack to calm down, and he walks back to the apartment building, pacing outside of Joshua Hong’s front door for a good ten minutes before he gathers the courage to ring the doorbell. 

Joshua opens the door in the same outfit, eyes now wide and doe-like behind his glasses. “Seungcheol,” he says, surprised.

“Hi,” Seungcheol squeaks. “I… Uhm, I made a mistake.”

“Did you leave something?” Joshua looks confused, eyebrows knitted together.

“No, it’s—” Seungcheol breaks into a giggle again, and Joshua can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. “I want to stay,” he manages to say. Joshua does that thing where his mouth quirks up at whatever Seungcheol says, and he loves seeing it, loves the warmth that pools in his gut when he sees it.

“Are you sure?” Joshua asks, more amused than anything. “You’re not panicking?” He opens his arms and steps back so Seungcheol could go inside. Seungcheol wraps his arms around Joshua’s torso, and he realises that hugging Joshua Hong was one thing he’s never done, but it was an amazing thing.

“Yes, Josh, I’m not panicking,” Seungcheol counters, and Joshua returns the hug, kicking the door shut behind him.

“Let’s go back to bed?”

“Hell, yeah, I love your bed.”


End file.
